#but unfortunately this fic was always going to be Leagues out of hand in terms of length so i'm worried about like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ginnyweasleymybeloved · 4 years ago

Text

willow / fred weasley

ahhhhh the first addition to this series!! really hope you guys like it! make sure to let me know what you think, asks/reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3

evermore x hp masterlist

all fics masterlist

summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, were not his type, seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex but not really, kissing, i think thats it but let me know if i missed anything <3

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

“life was a willow and it bent right to you wind

they count me out time and time again

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

but i come back stronger than a 90s trend”

Fred Weasley had made quite the name for himself in Hogwarts as of late. You loved the boy dearly but in simple terms he’d become something of a womaniser. It was lighthearted, for the most part, girls knew what they were getting into with Fred, it was black and white and completely unsentimental. With him, a snog was just a snog and a shag was just a shag, there was no confusion over whether or not there was something more there with Fred, there wasn’t and, you supposed, as a teenage girl that there was a certain appeal to that sort of physical transaction. Even though Fred was becoming increasingly hard to catch by himself without a random girl hanging from his arm, he was very particular about who he chose to keep as company on any given night.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed that the criteria was “anyone who isn’t Y/n”. This was made clear to you during a party in the Gryffindor common room while you were hanging out with Fred, George, Lee and Angelina. The five of you were taking up one of the comfy sofas towards the back of the crowded room, a bottle of fire whiskey was being passed between you all. Angelina had her head sleepily tucked into your shoulder, ever the lightweight, as she listened to the conversation the boys were having halfheartedly. George was sat to your right while Angelina was tucked against the arm of the chair to your left, his long arm stretched to wrap around both yours and Angelina’s shoulders. Fred sat on the right arm of the sofa with Lee slouched drunkenly beside George, it was fairly late and since the party had started pretty early after the day’s quidditch win, you were all fairly intoxicated when the dreaded topic of Fred’s gallivanting came about.

“Right, question for Fred,” Lee started, his words slightly slurred as he passed the bottle of fire whiskey to George, who took a long swig before handing the bottle to you and resting his cheek against the top of your head. You let out a small laugh, with Angelina resting on your shoulder and George close to sleep on your head you felt like the comfiest spot in the entire common room.

“Go for it, Jordan,” Fred said airily, his brown eyes glazed over as his stared at your form enveloped between George and Angelina, catching his gaze you outstretched your arm, offering him the alcohol only for him to shake his head and greet you with a soft smile, shifting his eyes back to Lee.

Lee, who always had a tendency to talk with his hands, waved his arms around nonsensically as he posed the question, “If you had to spend the rest of your life with one girl in our year who would it be? Excluding Y/n obviously.”

You sprung to life at that, disturbing Angie and George when you lurched forward to face Lee with a confused expression, “What? What do you mean excluding Y/n?”

Fred chuckled at your affronted expression and shook his head softly, “Don’t look so offended, love. He just means that you’re not really my type.”

You let out a scoff as Angie whined, sitting up with you only to wrap her arms around your middle and plop her head back down on your shoulder, muttering a druken, “Piss off, Freddie. You couldn’t get her anyway,” George snorted, obviously entertained by the whole thing while Lee looked like a child who just got caught staying up past bedtime.

“Ignoring the fact that I’m obviously way out of your league,” you started, glaring at Fred teasingly, “If I’m not your type then how come last night’s girl looked exactly like me?” You challenged raising an eyebrow. George let out a low whistle and Fred choked on air.

“She didn’t- she wasn’t-�� Fred stuttered and Angie groaned against your neck.

“Yea she did, Fredrick. She wasn’t even as gorgeous as our Y/n stop acting like a prat you’d be lucky to spend your life with her!” She ranted, glaring at him as best she could through her droopy eyelids.

“I agree with Angie, Y/n is obviously an exception because she’s simply too good for our resident fuckboy,” George added as you and Fred entered into some kind of staring contest.

Lee snatched the fire whiskey from your hand and took a quick shot, “Alright, alright calm down! Here is my professional commentary; Y/n is not included because Freddie dearest doesn’t know how to deal with feelings and, as we all know, Y/n is a whirlwind- in a good way of course- however Freddie can only think with his dick so he would only get lost in her current.”

“Oi!” Fred shouted indignantly, pouting childishly before hopping off his seat and shoved his twin away from you, he squeezed himself into the space beside you and looked at you seriously, his cheeks flushed due to, what you thought was, his intoxicated state, “You’re not included because you’re my best mate and I’ll spend the rest of my life with you anyway I just think, you know, romantically you're not my type...” That stung. The alcohol in your system wasn’t working nearly as hard as Angie’s as she was reaching across your body and smacking Fred across the chest clumsily before you could even fully digest his words.

“Fred-“ smack, “Weasley-“ smack, “You-“ smack, “Are-“ smack, “such a-“ smack, “Twat!” The slaps she delivered were weak and didn’t do much besides cause Fred to fall into a state of utter confusion, “Romantically you’re not my type,” you, George and Lee snickered at Angie’s imitation of Fred’s voice, while Fred continued to stare at Angelina with a lost expression as she went on, “So a loyal, trustworthy, considerate, girlfriend isn’t your type? Hm? Well good because just because you said that you can never ever have her because she’s mine!”

“Alright, Angie. I think it’s time for bed,” you mumbled through a laugh, she was always a combative drunk and you usually found it quite funny but you didn’t need anymore reminding that your hopeless crush really was hopeless. When you stood up you howled out a laugh when Angie hopped up behind you, still glaring at Fred she smacked your ass, slung her arm around your shoulder and slurred, “Yeah. Let’s go, sexy,” George and Lee fell into a fit of laughter as you led Angie towards the stairs.

“I love you girls!” George called through his laughter, Lee hummed in agreement.

“Love you, Georgie. Love you, Lee!” You replied.

“I love you too!” Angie shouted over you.

Fred was still lost when you disappeared up the stairs with his, very drunk, teammate, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Your stupid ’Y/n is off limits’ rule has finally caught up to you. You’ve lost her to Angie.” George chuckled and Fred shoved him halfheartedly.

“Shut up. All that this proves is that I’m no good for her.” He said, bitterly taking a swig from the bottle in his hands. It was no secret to either of the boys that Fred was head over heels for you. He would’ve followed you anywhere, however, it seemed as though every time he spoke to you the less he even knew what he was trying to say; take that night as an example. You were exactly his type. In every way. But Lee was right when he said Fred wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, whereas you seemed to hold an ocean of feelings and insights to life that Fred would actively drown in if he could.

“She likes you Fred, you know how she is when she wants something. Tell her no, she’ll only come back stronger. She’ll crack you eventually, ‘specially with Angie in her corner,” George informed his brother, reminding him of your unmatched determination.

True enough, you had always played to win and often did everything in your power to complete a challenge and come out on top. Fred wasn’t an idiot, he knew you fancied him, he fancied you too, who wouldn’t? But there were times that he’d be with you and this feeling of home would wash over him- he couldn’t risk losing you or that feeling you brought about, he’d be completely hollow. Besides, chasing girls who reminded him of you would keep him satisfied for the time being, surely. Surely not apparently.

George was right when he said you wouldn’t give up, in the last few days Fred found himself wishing you were his and he just knew you were doing things to make him crazy on purpose. You were, of course. He couldn’t deny that you were a force of nature all on your own, but wow, you were indeed a whirlwind when you acted with intention.

It had started with fleeting touches whenever you were close enough to achieve it. Gentle brushes of your fingertips against his while you walked alongside each other in the halls, quickly progressed into your hand gripping his bicep every time you spoke to him, then onto biting your lip whenever you were aware of his gaze. Ignoring the growing frustration within him only grew harder when you’d approach him, like clockwork, each night before he’d get busy with whoever it happened to be that night. You’d casually brush your hand down his arm, pull your lip between your teeth, wink and tell him to, “have fun”, and he would, purely because he’d have that image of you seared into his head the entire time.

Playing dirty was never something Fred would normally get on board with, however, the second he noticed you lapping up the attention you were receiving from one of the, admittedly handsome, Ravenclaw boys; Fred decided that you were in fact the one prize he’d cheat to win.

“Fuck this,” he’d muttered, causing his twin to raise an eyebrow at him. They’d only just sat down for breakfast yet Fred was already cursing out the day.

Ginny had heard him too, the youngest Weasley gave Fred a bored look, “What’s wrong with you?”

Fred let out an agitated huff through his nose, glaring menacingly at the tall brunette boy, who was sitting far too close to you for Fred’s liking. George’s laugh broke him out of his trance and he heard his brother snicker out a sarcastic, “So the penny’s finally dropped, has it?”

“Piss off, George,” Fred grumbled, his lips forming a scowly as the boy placed his hand on your knee under the table.

“For Merlin’s sake, Fred. Would you just ask her out already? I’m sick of you,” Ginny complained, Fred was her brother and she loved him but this? This was ridiculous.

“Rude, Gins. You better watch it or I’ll tell mum you’re misbehaving,” Fred joked, halfheartedly while Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Try it, Fred. I’ll tell her that you’re being a git and ruining her chances of having Y/n as a daughter-in-law.” Ginny threatened. Fred shook his head, determination flooding his body.

He stood from his spot hastily, and all but marched up to you and the boy who currently occupied your attention, “Oi, can I steal you for a minute, love?” Before you could even answer, you were being pulled from your seat by Fred’s strong grip on your hand.

The boy pulled you along until you were out of earshot of the Great Hall and away from the prying eyes of the nosy student body.

“Can I help you, Freddie?” You asked sweetly, too sweetly.

Fred’s hands slid against your sides before settling contently on your waist, he shook his head in disbelief as he spoke, “You’re something else, do you know that?”

Butterflies rumbled in your stomach in response to his newfound proximity and burning gaze. It took everything in you to bite back a triumphant yell as you managed a wicked grin. “What I am is exactly your type, Fred Weasley.”

“You’re bloody right you are,” he muttered, impatient desire fuelling him as he brought his lips to yours, tugging you closer by the waist and kissing you with so much desperation that you were starting to think snogging Fred Weasley wasn’t as open and shut as you’d previously thought.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine

270 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 3 years ago

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary: attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it?

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary: he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams. Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

#jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist #fic recs #fic recs masterlist

133 notes · View notes

consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Antidote is a Kiss

Summary: Scarecrow always did come up with the most whacky chemical formulas to test on people. Red Hood gets dosed with his latest toxin, and the only way to cure it is with a kiss. The only candidate? Long time rival and almost enemy, Ladybird.

____________________________________________________

“No,” Red Hood said, resolutely. “No way in hell.”

Red Robin’s exasperated voice crackled over the comm. “Hood, if you don’t, you’re going to die.”

“Do you think I care? Death is better.”

“I would say that’s insulting if I didn’t feel the exact same way.” Ladybird nonchalantly twirled a yoyo at her side. “Besides, ten minutes is plenty of time to get him someone else.”

“You two are in the middle of nowhere. It’s thirty minutes to the nearest city.”

“Yeah, but the suburbs are always an option. You Bats always seem to miss the obvious solution.”

“I’m not kissing her,” Red Hood repeated.

“I know that you two are…” Red Robin tried to find a more delicate way to word their relationship, “Not always on the best of terms, but you are on the same side right now. Ladybird, you don’t want Red Hood to die, do you?”

Plying Ladybird was always easier than trying to convince Red Hood. The woman had a heart of gold. Today? No such luck.

“He’s not going to die,” Ladybird scoffed. “If he dies over this instead of the many, many, many assassination attempts that I saved him from, I’ll feel insulted. But I’m also not going to help. I’m not going to kiss an unwilling party, and certainly not one with a mug as ugly as Red Hood.”

“You’ve never even seen my face!” Red Hood argued from safely inside his beauteous red bucket.

“Yeah, well you’ve never seen mine either, and yet somehow, you have no issue with calling me disfigured every time our paths cross.”

“You’re wearing a mask. Only people who are horribly scarred wear full face masks.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting you’re ugly then?”

“No, I’m wearing a helmet, not a mask. Big difference.”

Ladybird barely stopped herself from bashing her head against the cement and steel wall. If the action didn’t break her mask, she would have considered going through with it. “God, this is why I’m not going to kiss him, Red Robin. Can’t you use one of those zeta things and drop in a girl for him to make out with?”

“You know they don’t work like that.”

“I wouldn’t know, it’s not like I’m in the Justice League.”

“Not for a lack of trying! We’ve offered you the position at least ten different times.”

“Yeah, on the condition that I get Red Hood to join up too. That certainly doesn’t sound like you guys actually want my help.”

“Nine minutes on the clock,” an automated voice reminded them.

“I say we blow this popsicle stand,” Red Hood pointed a finger up at the cement ceiling.

“Wow, what a stupendously original idea, Red Hood. It’s almost like the next thing out of your mouth might be something vaguely resembling intelligence. Oh wait, that’s right. We can’t get out of this hell hole because there’s three feet of cement on every side of us and we have no weapons that can help.”

“I haven’t had a crack at it, yet.”

“Be my guest. I’ll sit back and laugh at your failed attempts.” Ladybird reclined on a wall. “We both know that between the two of us, I’m the one who’s better at escape and solutions that don't require firearms. You don’t think with either one of your heads, you think with your AK-47.”

“My babies are all I need to get the job done. Your plans are always so unnecessarily convoluted.”

“They’re convoluted so I can cover my tracks instead of leaving evidence, debris, and dead bodies behind.”

“Uh, guys? Can you have your spat after Hood’s life is out of immediate danger?”

“No,” both of them chorused, immediately glaring at each other for speaking in sync.

“I doubt Scarecrow actually came up with a formula that will make you die if you don’t kiss someone of the opposite gender within ten minutes. That seems like the kind of chemical compound that’s featured in all of those really trashy romance novels, except instead of being unable to control your instincts, you die.” Ladybird considered the empty vial on the floor. “I’m confident that Red Hood can ride this out with minimal damage. Even if he does get horny, it’s not like he’s going to go for me-- drug induced state or not, he can’t stand my guts.”

“Can I just say that I don’t want to bank his life on that assumption?”

“It’s not like your life is the one at stake. Just try to get someone out here that can break down this welded door for us sooner, rather than later.” Ladybird gives Red Hood a once over. “Besides, if he does try anything, we all know that I’m more than capable of tying him up.”

“Hey, why don’t you use that Lucky Charm of yours?”

“Do you think I didn’t think of that already? That was one of the first things I considered.”

“So why didn’t you use it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that after I do, I detransform within five minutes? Not a big fan of exposing my identity, plus it’s not like anybody’s in any real danger because we’re locked up here. Scarecrow’s tied up, the goons that welded the door shut on us aren’t capable of using their brains, and a team is going to bust us out in thirty minutes anyways.”

For the millionth time, Red Hood pounded his shoulder against the steel weld, hoping that something would give. Nothing happened.

A beep sounded.

“Ten minutes have passed.”

“See?” Ladybird crowed triumphantly. “I was right. Nothing’s--”

Red Hood fell to the floor, clawing at his chest.

“... happening. I jinxed it, didn’t I? I guess I’ll use it, then.”

Ladybird called for a lucky charm. No antidote fell into her hand. Just a sheet of paper, saying Kiss him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Tikki, don’t do me dirty like this!”

“Tikki? Who’s Tikki? What did the Lucky Charm give you?”

A wet cough sounded from underneath Red Hood’s helmet. He started to gasp for air.

Ladybird didn’t like Hood, but Red Robin was right. She had grown fond of him after saving his ass so many times. She wasn’t just going to let him die, especially not when she could help him. With a bone weary sigh, she knelt next to Red Hood.

“I guess we’re doing this, aren’t we? Red Robin, comms off.”

“Off? But Hood sounds like--”

“Off,” she repeated, firmly. “Or I’ll break them.”

The telltale sign of static ceased in her ears.

Ladybird held Red Hood by his shoulders, maneuvering his mask off.

“I hope you’re ugly,” she whispered.

He was not.

Even with blood on his lips, Jason Todd was unfortunately attractive.

“Gonna--” he coughed again, the spray of blood accompanied by a wheeze. “Bless me with your face before I die?”

“I can’t believe that you’re still snarky while you’re on death’s door.” Ladybird touched the full face mask that she added during her years as a vigilante in Gotham. She still has the usual Ladybug eye cover, so her identity is safe. But the noh mask provides a sense of safety to her. She’s loathe to take it off, but in order for a kiss to work, it needs to be put aside. With a sigh, she places it on the ground and places a hand over Red Hood’s startlingly blue eyes.

“Kinky,” he spat. Ladybird grimaced. Why she ended up on this mission alone with Red Hood was beyond her, but they always ended up in the worst situations together somehow, anyways.

Her lips descended on his.

Iron and sweat.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her lips with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with shielding Red Hood’s eyes. “You feeling any better?”

He coughed again.

“Great, so Scarecrow was lying and I didn’t have to kiss you. You were just going to die anyways.”

She placed her noh mask back on, then pressed a button on her comm. “You’re going to want to speed up the whole backup team. Looks like Scarecrow was lying.”

“You’re kidding me. Scarecrow never lies--”

Red Hood sat up shakily.

“I’m fine, Replacement. Throat’s a little sore, but I’m fine.”

“Good to know his MO hasn’t changed,” Ladybird remarked. “I’d suggest that you wipe your face with something. It’s covered in blood.”

“And Ladybird cooties.” Red Hood used his forearm to wipe the blood off. Ladybird had to admit that the man was objectively good looking. The artist in her wanted to take a picture or sketch him. The shock of white hair, symmetrical features, and prominent nose. His eyes had a certain darkness in them, like he had seen the worst of the world, but there was still a clarity to them that said he was fighting against those injustices. “C’mon, you’ve seen my face, don’t you think it’s time to exchange the favor?”

“Backup’s arriving in three,” interjected Red Robin.

“There’s nothing in it for me.” Ladybird tugged the hood of her cloak down lower.

“Isn’t it weird that we kissed and I don’t know your face?”

“No.”

“You really are into some kinky shit.”

“Also no on that.”

“Then why not show me your face?”

“Stop being such a brat.”

“I know I’m older than you.”

“Bratiness isn’t measured in age, but in mental maturity. Which you have none of.”

“Please?”

“I’m almost tempted to take off my noh mask if only because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say the word please.”

“If I say it again, will you?”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Pretty please, Ladybird?”

“... Fine.” She’d get a laugh out of this anyways, and the team was minutes away from picking them up.

She took off her noh mask to reveal the red and black domino.

Red Hood cursed.

@jasonette-july-2k20

it’s wild that yall are liking my fics when i basically vomit these things up im honestly scared to look back at some of the ones that have been posted because i do not proof read or edit

#poison #jasonette #you ever want to see what's under a mask?#only to find another mask?#Marinette's masks are like those russian dolls #never ending #maribat #jasonette july #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #dcu

912 notes · View notes

lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 19 - Change the Stars

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Allusions to Childhood Trauma

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch

Would you do it with me

Heal the scars and change the stars

Would you do it for me

Turn loose the heaven within

~ Nightwish - Ever Dream ~

As soon as all the children had left the building, a visible sigh of relief went through the people assembled on stage. All of them were glad that their first assignment of the day was done and they would be able to get some rest before returning for their second show in a few hours’ time.

Lizzie and Skye were chatting about the meet & greet when the sound of subdued voices drew their attention. Merula and Orion were standing close together at the exit of the stage; Merula was frowning, her whole body language defensive, while the signs of tension Lizzie had noticed on Orion previously were rapidly breaking through as he spoke. When Merula hissed something to him, Orion gave a frustrated sigh, turned on his heels and marched off stage.

Merula’s whole demeanour changed instantly; she seemed to be sorry for whatever she had said. But when she saw Lizzie and Skye looking, she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, before walking away into the opposite direction.

“What a fun little trip down memory lane,” Everett said with a dry chuckle as he came to stand beside them. He rested his elbow on Lizzie’s shoulder but she shook it off again.

“Don’t be a dick, Ev,” she frowned, “you know it’s hard for them.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged, “it’s a show, just like anything else in this fucking business. They should be used to it by now. Ladies,” he tipped two of his fingers against his temple and left them standing.

Skye looked after him, shaking her head. “When exactly did Ev turn into such a dick?”

“Ask me something easier,” Lizzie muttered in return.

They didn’t speak much on their way back to the hotel, at least not to each other. Skye was rambling on about the new additions Celtic Glasgow had made to its roster, but Lizzie was only half listening.

The thought about Orion disappearing so abruptly wouldn’t leave her mind. These kinds of events stirred up memories in Merula and him, but usually, it was only Merula who openly showed signs of her distress; Lizzie had never before seen them getting into an argument afterwards.

“Jameson? Are you even listening?”

“Sorry, what?” Lizzie looked at her friend remorsefully; she had no idea what Skye had been talking about, let alone if they still were on the topic of football.

“I was saying we’re going to slay it this year in the Champions’ League. No comment on this from a misguided Reds fan?”

“In your dreams, Parkin. You’ll be lucky if you make it through the preliminary rounds,” Lizzie said half-heartedly. Usually, she would never pass on an argument about football, but today her mind was elsewhere.

“You know what, I’m more tired than I thought,” Lizzie said when they had arrived at their hotel, “I think I’ll catch some sleep before heading back.”

Skye made an indignant sound. “I thought we wanted to grab something to eat.”

“Sorry about that, but I really need to get some rest,” Lizzie said evasively, not meeting Skye’s eyes. “Maybe Ev is around somewhere, you could spend some time with him.”

Skye snorted. “As if. See you later, Jameson.”

Lizzie waited until Skye was out of sight before climbing the stairs to the floor where they had their rooms. But instead of entering her own room, she walked straight past it until she came to Orion’s door. Hesitating for a moment, she knocked tentatively against the dark, lacquered wood.

She waited a little before she knocked again, but no sound was coming from behind the door. Lizzie wondered for a moment if she had misjudged Orion and he wasn’t in there after all.

“Orion?” she called quietly. “Are you there?”

After a moment, she could hear movement from the inside of the hotel room. She stepped back when the door opened, revealing Orion standing in the doorframe. He looked at her questioningly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Lizzie said. His clothes were creased and his hair even more tousled than usual. “Have you been sleeping? Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Orion shook his head. “I tried to, but to no avail. My mind won’t let me rest.”

Lizzie hummed in response. “I thought so. You seemed upset before you left.” She offered him a warm smile. “Do you want some distraction?”

A flicker of irritation crossed Orion’s face before the thoughtful expression from before returned. “I appreciate both your concern and your offer, but I’m not in the mood, sorry.”

Realising how her words must have sounded, Lizzie felt the heat rising to her face. “That’s not… No. Sorry, that came across all wrong. I just want to know if you’re okay. You never are after shows like this.”

Orion inclined his head. “That is true. Memories are a fickle thing; they can lie dormant so long you almost forget them, but once stirred, there is no running from them anymore.” He sighed, the sadness on his face tugging at Lizzie’s heartstrings. “To answer your question: No, I am not okay.”

Lizzie felt the overwhelming need to wrap her arms around him, just to give him the comfort he so obviously needed. But she was still standing in the hallway, somebody could step out of their room at any time.

“Can I come in?” she asked instead.

Orion looked her up and down, a curious look in his eyes. “Events like the one today have always brought back the ghosts of my past. Usually, you let me be; this is the first time you have come to me. Why?”

Lizzie contemplated his question, but didn’t know the answer. Orion liked to come to terms with anything that was bothering him on his own, she knew that. She had never felt the need to check on him before.

Instead of answering his question, she shrugged, the smile on her lips more uncertain than before. “I can leave if you want me to.”

She was relieved when Orion immediately shook his head and stepped away from the door. “No, your company is always welcome. I was just curious.”

Lizzie walked past him into the room that was looking exactly like hers, maybe a little less messy. Orion had drawn the curtains and turned on the lights, shutting out the bright blue sky outside. The sheets of the bed were creased, speaking of his failed attempt to escape from his thoughts by means of sleep.

Several of the notebooks containing his sacred ideas lay strewn around the room; Lizzie picked one of them up. She was itching to have a look inside but knew Orion wouldn’t appreciate it; he often shared his unfinished works with her, but always in his own time. And sure enough, he gently but firmly took the notebook from her hands and placed it in a neat stack on the desk alongside the others.

“Have you been able to get any work done?” she wanted to know.

Orion sighed again; it sounded like it came from the bottom of his heart. “Unfortunately not. My thoughts are running wild. Every time I focus on one thing, they break away and return to places I do not want them to go.” He motioned to the book lying upside down on his bed. “I can’t even read one sentence without them wandering off. I’d usually let them roam freely, but not today.”

He sat down on the bed, his dark hair falling into his face as he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I’m not a pleasant company at this moment, I’m afraid, so I would understand if you want to spend your time with someone a little more uplifting.”

Lizzie was concerned at the level of distress Orion was displaying. She had known something was off with him but not that he was as affected so badly.

She kneeled down next to Orion on the bed, reaching out and gently touching his forearm. Orion tensed momentarily but his muscles relaxed once his eyes found hers. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

She let her hand drop when Orion shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to.”

“Do you want me to go?” she offered a second time. It was plain to see that Orion was bothered but Lizzie didn’t know how to comfort him. She hated this feeling of helplessness.

But Orion shook his head again. “I’d be glad if you stayed.”

Lizzie’s eyes grew soft. “That’s why I’m here.”

She reached out again and drew Orion into a hug. The ends of his dark hair tickled her neck as he buried his face against her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her as he held on to her tightly. Lizzie felt his chest rise and fall as he took deep and deliberate breaths, shaky at first, but calmer by the minute; the tension in his shoulders started lessening ever so slowly.

She loosened her arms around his shoulders after a while, but Orion made no move to do the same. If anything, he pulled her even closer.

“You can let go now,” she chuckled against his hair.

“I don’t want to.”

The vibration of his words against her collarbone made Lizzie laugh softly. She leaned her head against his, her fingers gently grazing the skin on his neck.

They sat like that for a while, not speaking a single word, until Lizzie felt the muscles in her shoulders starting to tense. She leaned back ever so carefully until her back made contact with the headboard of the bed. Orion adjusted his position alongside her, his head coming to rest in her lap. His lips curved into a smile which was now reaching his eyes again.

“Do you feel better now?”

He closed his eyes, enjoying the way her fingers were gently stroking his hair. “I do. You have gathered my thoughts from the past and firmly grounded them in this moment again.”

Lizzie smiled. “That’s good.” She didn’t stop brushing her fingers through his hair, however. Orion wasn’t the only one who was feeling considerably calmer than before.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Orion said suddenly, “I wouldn’t have expected it, but thank you.”

Frowning slightly, Lizzie tilted her head. “You said so before. Why is it so strange that I would want to know if you’re okay?”

Orion averted his eyes, looking at the ceiling instead. He was turning the pendant of his necklace between his fingers. “We never spend time together like this.”

A trace of hurt flickered across Lizzie’s face and she pulled her hand away. “You make this sound as if I don’t care for you except for a good shag,” she said a little more sharply than she had meant to. It stung that Orion seemed to be thinking that way. “We’re friends after all, I hope you haven’t forgotten that.”

He didn’t look at her, seemingly lost in thought. “I haven’t.”

He turned his head slightly. “I didn’t mean to upset you; of course we are friends. I meant that I usually keep to myself when my emotions run wild and until today, you’ve always left me alone. Why did you come today?” he repeated his question from earlier.

Lizzie hesitated. “You seemed different.”

Orion hummed in confirmation, his face darkening again. “Today was different.”

His voice sounded so defeated, Lizzie had never heard him speak like this before. She picked up stroking his hair again. “Why?”

This time, Orion didn’t deny her the explanation. “It was something Merula said after the show was over,” he said quietly. “Being confronted by the demons of our past always gets to her, much more so than it does to me. Our experiences are the same but also so different. She is angry with Ethan, she thinks he’s exploiting stories better left alone for the sake of publicity. Which I can’t really disagree with,” Orion added sadly. “To him it’s not about making those children happy but about pitching our sales.”

“But that’s something we’ve known all along,” Lizzie pointed out. “He’s never kept his attitude a secret.”

“True, but Merula thinks we’re giving these kids false perspectives. And I think she’s right.”

He closed his eyes as if the thought was paining him. “The determination in our hearts can take us places unimaginable. But even so, the universe has a plan for all of us. Not everyone can end up being a superhero, astronaut or rockstar,” he smiled wryly at the last one. “All those kids today were looking at me with this utmost trust that one days their dreams will come true. It breaks my heart knowing that they will have to face the truth eventually. Most of them won’t be as lucky as Merula and I were.”

Lizzie listened to his words, feeling her heart break a little at the pain in Orion’s voice. She could tell how much he was hurting for these children; her throat felt constricted at the thought of how Orion himself must have felt all those years ago.

“Maybe they won’t,” Lizzie said quietly, “but that’s a lesson we all had to learn eventually.” She caught his gaze and held it. “Something you like to tell us right before we go on stage is how everything that matters is the present. To not dwell on songs that are done and not about which one is coming next. Just to focus on what is now, that’s the only way to truly live the moment.”

Her hand went from his hair to his face, the backs of her fingers caressing his cheek. She felt the scratch of his beard against the back of her hand; even though she was familiar with how it bit into her skin, this moment shared between them felt incredibly intimate.

Maybe it was the way Orion was looking at her; his eyes caught hers as he listened, his complete focus bound on what she had to say.

“These kids today,” she continued, “they are living in the here and now, just like you always try to teach us. In their minds, they are living their dreams, even if it’s only for a little while. You are their proof that it's worth hanging onto them, and that is something so precious. Without dreams, there’s no reason to chase after what we truly want. No one can achieve anything great without a goal in mind. You’re right, not all of them will become what they dream of now, but you have shown them that with a bit of luck and dedication, it can happen. Anyone can find happiness, no matter who they are.

Orion let her words sink in. “You really think so?” he asked eventually, his voice so low it was barely a whisper.

A smile stole onto Lizzie’s face. “I’m sure of it.”

The corners of Orion’s mouth twitched into a slight smirk. “I wasn’t the only one they adored, though. I saw how they were looking at you.” His smirk widened into a grin. “You seemed to have gained a personal fan.”

Lizzie remembered the little girl and her burning enthusiasm all too well. “I did,” she laughed, “she told me she wants to become a drummer, just like me.”

“That’s a wonderful goal to have,” Orion said. “The world needs more people like you. Was that what you two talked about at the end?”

“No,” Lizzie chuckled, “she asked me about the dreamcatcher.”

Orion had closed his eyes again, enjoying the feel of Lizzie’s fingers entangled in his hair. She watched his face relaxing before she casually added “And she wanted to know if you’re my boyfriend.”

“Did she now?” he mumbled drowsily.

“I believe she is very in love with you. She told me she’s going to marry you once she’s older,” Lizzie giggled, “Just so you are prepared.”

“And what did you tell her?” Orion smirked.

“I said that you are a very lucky man,” she laughed, brushing a rogue strand of hair from his face.

Lizzie was glad to see that the sparkle in his eyes had returned when Orion looked at her; his gaze was as captivating again as it had always been.

“I guess I am.”

The unreadable expression on his face was gone before Lizzie could think on it any further. The trace of his smile was still playing around his lips as Orion let himself get carried away by her gentle touch.

After a few more minutes, his body relaxed completely and his head fell slightly to the side; he had finally fallen asleep.

Lizzie studied his face; her eyes wandered over his black hair messed up by her fingers, then down his forehead, lingering on his long lashes that almost seemed to touch his skin. She saw the shallow lines around his eyes, edged into his skin from the many moments he spent laughing with his friends. Her eyes followed the bridge of his nose and swept over the dark stubble on his cheeks before they came to rest on the curve of his lips. They were slightly parted, and for one second, she almost gave in to the urge to kiss him; just like that, one simple, innocent kiss.

Lizzie shook her head to clear her thoughts. What was she even thinking? That wasn’t how she did things; Orion wasn’t her boyfriend, and that was exactly how she wanted it to stay. She had no place stealing a kiss from him while he was asleep.

Trying her best not to move too much lest he might wake up again, she reached over to Orion’s book. Perhaps some reading would distract her from her unruly thoughts; with his head still resting on her lap, it wasn’t like she could do much else anyway.

She placed the feather Orion was using as a bookmark between the pages and flicked through the book until she found her own bookmark. She had started reading it some time ago, when she had waited for him to be done showering; by the time he had been done, she had already been thoroughly invested in the story.

Before she picked up where she had left off, she glanced down at Orion’s peaceful face. She felt a touch of sadness as she thought back on their conversation.

How could Orion genuinely not know what he meant to the people around him?

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

16 notes · View notes

yinyanchan · 3 years ago

Text

Housemates x Zoot Suit Riot Crossover: Lucky and Strike part 1

Wanted to post this for my birthday. You guys get to see it here first before the parts are combined and put on AO3. I will update when that happens as I’d like to do POV’s I’ve written for housemates and Zoot Suit Riot as well. The rating on it will be M as we do have a lot a pervs to cover and well Lucky being Lucky.

Summary: In which Blue and Orange from Housemates end up getting sucked through the still active machine in the basement of the house and swaps them with Lucky (Underswap Mafia Sans) and Strike (Underswap Mafia Papyrus) from my fic. Zoot Suit Riot. If you haven’t read Zoot Suit Riot… you are in for a treat with Lucky. Rating is what is and you will find out soon enough.

Check it out under the cut!

Blue was cleaning up near the dryer as Orange was helping him fold clothes in the basement. Both of them zoned out at what they were doing… until…

“You hear that bro?” Orange looks around. He faintly hears a soft whirring sound but both the dryer and washing machine were off.

Blue pauses and looks around.

“I HEAR IT BUT WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE IT IS? I MEAN I FEEL LIKE I’VE HEARD IT BEFORE BUT I CAN’T HONESTLY PLACE IT.” He hums as he continues to investigate with his brother.

“Oh crap. It’s getting louder behind the locked door.” Oranges’ sockets widen as do Blues.

“YOU DON’T THINK THE MACHINE STARTED UP ON IT’S OWN DO YOU!?” Blue looks highly concerned over at his brother.

“It doesn’t seem possible. Go get Sans… I’ll take it from here.” Orange says undoing the lock on the door only to have his hand gripped by his brother.

“I DON’T WANT YOU GOING IN ALONE. MAYBE THIS IS SOMETHING LIKE AN UPDATE BUT I DON’T WANT YOU TO GO IN AND IT POSSIBLY TAKES YOU FROM ME.” Blue is serious and Orange relents… he knows if he doesn’t comply he won’t even get the chance to investigate. Blue will ground his sorry behind that’s for sure.

“Ok bro. On the count of 3 we go in together.” Blue nods, getting that serious big brother mode game face on.

“1...2...3” They open the door and are instantly bathed in light and are instantly sucked into the room. Then moments later two skeletons who look eerily similar are thrown into the room.

They both groan slowly getting up from their awkward positions on the floor. They both look at each other only to do a double take.

“Brother, I know you are lazy but honestly?” The Blue look alike scowls at the orange hoodie clad skeleton next to him. The skeleton in question looks himself over and then scoffs.

“At least you can tell what I’m wearin’ unlike you bro… what even is that?” His brow raised in question.

The Blue imposter looked down at the battle body that Blue so lovingly wore in absolute disgust.

“THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS!? WHERE IS MY GODDAMN SUIT!?” He raves then touches head for his hat… and instantly blue tears are welling up in his sockets.

“Strike… my hat is gone… my classy yet uniquely me bowler hat has gone missing… I CAN’T BE CLASSY, yet highly adorable, AND GET PUSSY IN THIS!!!” The blue skeleton has tears cascading down as he looks around for something far more wearable… he only can find more of what his brother Strike is wearing and aprons.

“Lucky, Look, it's a bit more serious than our clothes right now. Forget our soulmate was in the world we left behind?” Strike asks his brother who looks ready to combust.

“THAT IS THE PUSSY I WAS TALKING ABOUT!!! IF WE ARE HERE THEN WHERE IS SHE!? SHE BETTER NOT BE STUCK WITH THOSE ASSHOLES WITHOUT US BIDDING FOR HER AFFECTION!” Lucky looked positively pissed.

“Well she’s not here obviously.” Strike meanders to the machine listening to its soft dronning hum.

“FIX THIS NOW!!!” Lucky demands but Strike laughs.

“Unfortunately this is out of my league. My machine doesn’t even have one of these usb ports. I had to print orders on a card file for the machine to read it… one mistakenly placed card would throw everything out of order.” Strike sighs.

“Hmmm perhaps this may be a similar situation we were in… multiple versions of ourselves convening in one alternate universe. I say we go out there and pretend to be whoever these skeletons are and single out the one who is responsible for this mishap.” Lucky says lifting up the battle body attire with a repulsed look.

“Great plan bro but how are you sure that they will think we’re them.” Strike questions.

Lucky pulls out the photo in the chest plate of Blue and Orange posing for the picture.

“I think we can handle it.” Lucky smirks, his blue eyes sharpened to blue icy stars.

Strike chuckles as the pose gives everything away. They were just plain ordinary versions of themselves in a different universe… How hard could it be?

They go up the stairs and find themselves face to face with someone so strikingly familiar their soul about leapt out of their chest.

“Y/N?” Lucky asks almost in a whisper but loud enough for you to turn around and smile. Lucky is in a daze and he feels the familiar pull of his soul's longing.... Could it be that there was another soulmate version of you in this world.

“What’s up Blue? Done with the laundry already? From the way you were lecturing Orange about his growing pile of filth… I thought you’d be down there a lot longer.” You chuckle as you come up to pat his shoulder.

The silence was obviously starting to worry you.

“You ok…..” You start but are instantly cut off by Strike chuckling.

“It’s okay honeybun, he’s a little speechless after he found a snack in the pockets of one of these (Slightly lifts the hoodie for emphasis) and it’s well traumatized him a bit. He’ll be back to good ol’ Blue in a moment.” Strike knew he slipped up by the way you look at him puzzled when he called you honeybun but fortunately his deductions about himself in this world were correct. You snort making both Lucky and Strike ease up from the tense situation they were in.

You give Lucky a hug which he’s shocked but instantly hugs you back.

“I’m so sorry Blue. At least it’s not like when Red went on a full cursing rampage… You and Berry both were mortified for days.” From Lucky’s position he was able to make eye contact with his brother.

It was an unspoken acknowledgement of the information they had just gathered. So there was a Red and a Berry… then you leaned back to look at Lucky once more.

“I’m sure you’ll be my cheery, bubbly Blueberry in no time.” Lucky almost cringed and Strike couldn’t hold back his laughter. Leaving you confused and Lucky glaring daggers at him while your focus was off.

Lucky only used that persona as a ruse… He hated being cute but he would do it in a heartbeat if it meant he could get something he could use. Everyone usually thought Strike was in charge and were left confused when Lucky showed up and made sure everyone knew their place. Strike knows that persona works like magic… no matter how much Lucky hates it.

“MWEH HEH! YOU HAVE ME THERE Y/N” Lucky throws himself into the act. You give him a concerned look again but shake it off with a grin. Lucky saw it and knew that Blue must’ve given you a term of endearment that he must call you by constantly… He wished he knew what it was…

Luckily he and Strike were always a team and Strike has his back.

“Sorry honeybun but it looks like he’s still a little out of it.” Strike snickers and Lucky puts on a playful pout that instantly has you looking relieved.

“Well this homework isn’t going to do itself… If only…” You sigh and grab a backpack off the floor and start heading upstairs after waving to them.

“Strike, She’s not used to you calling her honeybun. She seemed okay with honey before the bun. Just call her honey but there must be something this Blue was calling her… I can’t think of anything at the moment of what it could be…” Lucky has his game face on again as they both stand around thinking about their gameplan.

Well… if they couldn’t get back to where they were… There was a soulmate for them here and they both smirked at one another.

“There ya are pipsqueak.” Both Luck and Strike turn to see someone who was definitely a shorter version of Sweets… Had the most atrocious shorts with a parka… but red and black per the normal color pattern. Also the gold fang that stuck out like a sore thumb… So that could mean that their version of Swisher was here too if his brother was.

Lucky actually looked behind him in confusion and worry like there was someone else that he hadn’t seen. Strike noticed the skeleton rolls his eyelights.

“You, You dumbass.” As Lucky turns to glare and Strike straightens himself a little… ready for a fight.

Then all of a sudden the other skeleton starts laughing.

“What? am I in trouble? I shouldn’t be cursing is that it? I hope I don’t invoke big brother mode.” The skeleton continues to guffaw only when he notices that the two skeletons aren’t really reacting the way he was wanting… in fact they seemed deathly serious.

“Hey come on… didn’t mean it. Ya not seriously gonna go inta big brother mode because of that?” The skeleton that resembled Sweets starts to look them over concerned.

“What the actual fuck are you going on about?” Lucky is seething. Strike coughs to let his brother know he’s slipped character because of his anger once again.

Too late the damage has been done.

The skeleton starts to eyeball them both a little more and starts to sweat.

“Who the…” He pauses in his question then in a blink disappears while yelling “Sans!”

“Well isn’t this a total shit fuck of a mess I put us in?” Lucky groans.

“Told ya ta watch yer anger bro… now all I can say is we gotta sell who we’re impersonating.” Strike sighs as both walk around and try to get familiar with things as quickly as possible.

Both of them find themselves wandering into the living room to be cornered by someone who looked like Black from their world. Only they almost had their jaws drop at his outfit. Bandanna with ragged looking black and red clothes that showed off his spine like a midriff.

“YOU TWO KNOW WHY RED IS SHOUTING LIKE THAT? IT’S NOT LIKE HIM TO BE THAT OBNOXIOUSLY LOUD.” The new skeleton loudly hisses out.

Strike had to nudge Lucky as he saw his brother's eye sockets narrow in what was sure to be a retort. Shocking his brother to let out a “MWEH” as he suddenly remembers.

Strike was good on hunches and was definitely a walking talking lie detector… even though that doesn’t stop Lucky from lying all the time.

“Come on, Berry, don't be like that. Poor bro is traumatized enough as it is going through my laundry.” His hunch was right as he watched ‘Berry’ shudder in absolute disgust.

“INDEED. I’VE SEEN THE WAY YOU AND RUSS LAZE ABOUT… THAT ROOM OF YOURS MUST BE EQUALLY ATROCIOUS TO HIS.” Berry shakes his head.

“Where is everyone?” Strike grins as he knows this will get them names at least.

“FORGET ALREADY? SANS IS AT THE UNIVERSITY ALONG WITH PAPYRUS AND RUSS. YOU KNOW? DOING THEIR JOBS. EDGE IS AT HIS JOB AS WELL. AXE AND NOOK ARE IN THE GARDEN AND RED OF COURSE IS BEING AN IDIOT. DEAREST IS ATTENDING HER HOMEWORK.” Both skeletons flinch at the smile on Berry’s face when he mentions well… you… who else would it be that a skeleton like this would be so fond of?

Yet Strike and Lucky are grateful to the access of information that was just handed to them on a silver platter.

Lucky has been in thought while listening to the drivel of his newest rival. What would he call someone absolutely dear to him? Obviously it would be something similar to this Blue… would it be Starshine? He likes stars and the way they shimmer and shine… but even Strike seemed to be a little off with honeybun.

“YES! DOING HER BEST! S-ORANGE? AFTER ALL OF THAT YOU’RE SURE YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE THAT NEEDS TO GO IN THE WASH?” Lucky almost slipped but pulled through.

“I’m sure bro.” Strike says with a grin knowing where this would go.

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU. LET US TAKE ANOTHER LOOK SHALL WE?” Lucky and Strike begin to make their way upstairs leaving Berry… without realizing that Berry is looking at the stairs they chose weren’t the stairs they often took to go to their rooms.

Shrugging it off. Blue might’ve wanted to pop in to see how you were doing.

As Lucky and Strike crest the landing both look at each other seriously. You were in one of these rooms so they couldn’t go barging in but all skeletons were accounted for either not being here, inside, or upstairs… save for Red.

He was another problem. If he knew where Sans was he probably took a shortcut there but possibly could be in one of the rooms himself.

Strike shrugged and Lucky sighed walking over to the first door and knocked.

“Yes?” You called out and Lucky swooned.

“JUST CHECKING IF YOU NEEDED ANY HELP!” He calls out and you laugh.

“I might need some help with math later okay?” You tell him through the door.

“THEN I SHALL BE BACK TO HELP YOU.” Lucky preens but Strike pulls him away before he can say anything else.

“Bro, you forget that math is a subject you don’t excel at unless it’s you figuring out how to do something successfully in your own head?” Strike urges his brother to stop while they are ahead. Lucky was only good at numbers from his perspective and not from a textbook.

“Of course and by successful, it is! And Doing…?” His grin is lecherous as he looks back at your door.

“I will be.” He licks his teeth and Strike sighs.

“Bro, I feel the pull too but we need our head in the game, so we can win it before they find out we aren’t who they thought we are.” Strike pulls him to the next door and knocks.

No answer. Looking around they slowly open it to not make a sound. They see a room in squalor and Lucky nearly gags. Lucky might be a little lazy in the mornings but he likes things nice and tidy.

This must be Red's room from the shorts they see lying about and the red and black color scheme… the only thing that really just has them floored are the pin ups… Naked pin ups…

Lucky looks around and sees a magazine. As he picks up the magazine the centerfold unfolds to a nude woman in a very sensual position.

“L-Lucky put that down!” Strike is flushed with embarrassment as his brother looks awestruck.

“I feel jipped. Where was this stuff in our timeline!? The only things naughty I had were stuffy pin ups with people in their unmentionables but only some skin was shown… This. Shows. Everything.” Lucky wipes a little drool away instantly pinning your face onto what he’s seeing.

“Guys!? Are you in Red’s room!?” They both freeze and Lucky instantly chucks the evidence away from him by instinct.

Only for them to sigh in relief that you were calling out from the otherside of the wall. Yet strike sees Lucky quickly stuff something in his pocket.

“YES WE WERE DROPPING OFF A TURTLENECK SWEATER WE FOUND IN THE DRYER!” Lucky quickly lies at the drop of a hat. Something that was both a blessing and a curse for poor Strike.

“Ok, but you know he doesn’t like anyone being in there when he’s not!” You call out again. You were still pretty muffled due to the wall… which had them looking at one another in curiosity if you had heard anything they said.

Seeing as you didn’t seem weirded out or come over in a huff they speculated that it wasn’t something to be upset about. So they quickly left and shut the door loud enough behind them for you to know they had left.

They went over and gently knocked on the next door so that you couldn’t hear but any occupant would. No answer so they silently slipped in. It was a very nice simple room. Had some books arranged neatly on a few shelves and at least they could see the computer on the desk without piles of dirty dishes and… well they didn’t want to think about what all those kleenex wipes were doing there.

There was a picture on the desk and this one showed Red and a Tall skeleton resembling Swisher from where they were whisked away from. Strike narrowed down the names listed and since it seemed to go in pairs the way it was given. Russ was obviously Berry’s brother. Sans and Papyrus of course the originals… That left Axe, Nook, and Edge. Since Axe and Nook were working together they might be brothers so that left Edge.

“Edge right?” Lucky smirks as he also narrowed it down. Well this wasn’t either of their rooms so they went down another door. Gently knock only to be spooked by a loud voice.

“OH! IS SOMEONE THERE? I WILL JUST BE A MINUTE.” They listen closely, leaning towards the door. They heard water stop running and then the door was thrown open startling them to both jump back. Panic stricken as they see a lumbering disfigured Papyrus lean down quizzically eyeing them.

“Figures there’d be one of him too.” Lucky gripes under his breath and gets elbowed by Strike.

“I AM TERRIBLY SORRY FRIENDS… WERE YOU NOT WANTING TO USE THE RESTROOM? OR WERE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMEONE?” They were at a pause… this was either Axe or Nook and since they had nothing to go by, playing it off was going to be a difficult feat.

“SCAVENGER HUNT.” Lucky blurted out and Strike looked at him like he’s lost his mind.

“WE DIDN’T WANT TO INTRUDE ON ANYONE MWEH HEH HEH.” Lucky gets that big sweet adorable grin as he rubs the back of his skull.

“OOOH A SCAVENGER HUNT!? WHO ARE WE SCAVENGING!?” The tall lanky skeleton of nightmares looks positively joyous and ready to join.

“Ummm who?” Strike looks between the skeletons nervously.

“MEHH NO! NOT WHO BUT A WHAT!” Even Lucky seems at a loss as his shoulders droop.

“YOU HAVE ME PUZZLED BLUE… TO SCAVENGE IS A HUNT FOR FOOD.” Both Lucky and Strike look floored.

“Then why did you say who?” Strike chuckles nervously.

“OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE I MADE A FUNNY. AXE AND PEACHES WOULD HAVE LAUGHED.” The one that is now known to be Nook poses dramatically and somehow his tattered cape like scarf blowing in wind that was not there.

Now the question was… who the hell was Peaches?

“MWEH! OF COURSE I GET IT NOW! VERY FUNNY NOOK!” Nook looks at Lucky weirdly but smiles.

“GOOD TO KNOW THAT MY DARK CANNIBAL JOKES AREN’T *Snicker* DRY.” He pauses and both skeletons seem to have no choice but to laugh while they are screaming internally.

“YES, WELL, NOOK PERHAPS YOU CAN HELP US?” Lucky quickly rebounds to change the subject. Lucky may have seen guts and glory in his line of work but the actual thought of eating someone was not something that sat with him lightly.

Nor for Strike who only sweats as Nook continues to chuckle and say “BONE DRY” under his breath.

“YOU SEE, ABSOLUTELY THE DARNDEST THING. WE ARE MISSING A SOCK. WE’VE BEEN HUNTING FOR IT BECAUSE ORANGE DOESN’T KNOW WHERE HE COULD HAVE LEFT IT… BEST TO RETRIEVE IT BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE STUMBLES UPON IT… LIKE Y/N.” He does the best bubbly impression he has but that doesn’t stop the tall skeleton looking down at him, with a knowing that something isn’t right.

“STARLIGHT.” Nook says bluntly at Lucky who falters.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?” Lucky tries to keep his cool but even Strike knows when his brother is getting close to the ‘Fuck it’ stage and guns start blazing. Lucky was never really patient unless there was a type of goal that he really wanted to strive for.

“BLUE ARE YOU OKAY? YOU HARDLY EVER CALL PEACHES BY HER NAME ANYMORE. IT’S BEEN AGES SINCE I HEARD YOU SAY IT OTHER THAN STARLIGHT… YOU ALSO LAUGHED AT AXE’S TERRIBLE JOKES. ONLY I AND PEACHES… SOMETIMES EDGE AND RED FIND THEM AMUSING. EVEN RUSS AND YOU ORANGE ABHOR WHAT WE HAD DONE IN OUR TIMELINE AND CRINGE WHEN WE SAY THEM. SANS WON’T EVEN LET AXE TRY THEM IN HIS PRESENCE… PAPYRUS ACCEPTS US FOR WHO WE ARE BUT EVEN HE DOESN’T LIKE THAT KIND OF HUMOR. BERRY STRAIGHT UP FORBIDS US…. THAT IS UNLESS OF COURSE IT'S OVER SOMEONE WHO WAS MEAN TO PEACHES THEN HE FINDS IT HYSTERICAL AND ENCOURAGES IT… CAN NEVER REALLY TELL WITH HIM…” Nook goes off on a tangent… seems to be because he often does. Both skeletons just worriedly shoot glances at one another until he seems done.

“CONSIDER IT US BRANCHING OUT IN UNDERSTANDING FRIEND! MWEH HEH! NOW WE MUST FIND THAT SOCK!” Lucky puffs out his chest.

“OH YES! IT WOULD BE VERY EMBARRASSING FOR PEACHES TO FIND IT. HAVE YOU TRIED LOOKING IN YOUR ROOMS?” Nook questions and Lucky falters.

“WELL UM YES WE THOUGHT BUT PERHAPS YOU COULD HELP US? MORE EYES THE BETTER AT FINDING IT!” Lucky is trying to persuade Nook into helping them find at least Blue or Orange’s room.

Strike smirks. His bro is really good at handling things when he tries.

“NO THANKS.” Nook shrugs and walks off leaving Lucky and Strike to their stupor.

“Uh… Ok…” Strike looks at him quizzically and Nook pauses with a brow raised.

“LOOK, I’M NOT PAPYRUS… WELL TECHNICALLY I AM BUT I’M NOT JUST GOING TO RUN AROUND LOOKING FOR SOMEONE ELSE'S UNMENTIONABLES. THAT’S JUST… WELL UNSANITARY AND RUDE.” Nook scoffs at the other two and meanders off a ways… then turns and eyes them making them stiff.

“YOU TWO ARE ACTING VERY STRANGE. IT’S ALMOST AS IF YOU NEED ME TO FIND YOUR ROOMS ON THE OTHER SIDE DOWN THAT HALL.” He points and both skeletons waive their hands in defense.

“NO NO! OF COURSE NOT! IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY HELPING ORANGE GET THAT FILTHY LAUNDRY TOGETHER.” Lucky is quick on the draw to lie again.

“Yeah it’s been exhausting work waiting for the clothes to be finished… getting pressed…” Strike realizes he didn’t know what those machines were… he only knew dry cleaners… Lucky glares at him briefly.

“OH YES! PERMANENT PRESS! GOOD CYCLE! TAKES FOREVER BUT IT DOES GET EVERYTHING NICELY CRISP AND CLEAN.” Nook nods with a smile and then carries on down stairs.

Lucky and Strike both heave a sigh of relief they didn’t realize they were holding.

#Zoot Suit Riot #Lucky #Strike #Housemates #Underswap Sans #Underswap Papyrus #Underswap Mafia Sans #Underswap Mafia Papyrus

14 notes · View notes

tainted-wine · 5 years ago

Text

Past Due

Reader X Giran, Dabi, and Mr. Compress (NSFW)

(OOF, This little bastard of a fic has been fighting me every step of the way. It took so long because I was second guessing every single sentence I wrote. Finally, here’s the darkest shit I’ve written so far.)

(This is pre-Overhaul arc, so the bois Giran and Compress are still whole)

Words: 7.8k

Heed These Warnings: Murder, Kidnapping, Noncon/Dubcon, Giran being a dangerous dude, Knives, Forced Oral and Anal, Voyeurism, Humiliation, and the Protagonist just being a total dumbass

--------------------------------------------

For as long as you have lived, luck has been by your side like a bipolar twin attached to your hip. It was thanks to luck that you were born into a quirkless family in the trashiest of neighborhoods, your penniless parents separating and leaving you to fend for yourself. The streets had no use for you; no quirk, no charisma, no money, you were just another parasite desperately clinging onto the city’s rotten underbelly.

But it was also thanks to luck that you survived this long. The average person can remember each and every brush with death in their life clearly, but you—you’ve lost count of how many times this cruel world has tried to pick you off. So far, you have dodged every bullet, knife, and blast of quirk-based power aimed in your direction. How do you keep slipping past all of these dangerous criminals? Your reckless ass has no idea. Luck was simply a sadistic douchebag that enjoyed dangling you over the jaws of death, only to yank you back up and repeat the process like a sad little yo-yo.

As you drove to your place in a panic, you wonder if luck has ever fucked you this hard before.

———

Things had gotten somewhat organized, and by that you mean that you finally had some sort of plan instead of gravitating toward the nearest opportunity that didn’t look ready to tear you apart and throw your remains in an alley. You’ve even made an accomplice, a woman not quite as powerless as you, but an unfortunate soul with less experience in this…line of work. To make things even better, you managed to strike a deal with a prominent broker. Giran was a name known all throughout Japan’s black market, and to think that he’d see potential in a quirkless broad whose notable trait was simply not dying—it was your lucky day. He supplied you with weapons that will make surviving in this hellhole much easier, telling you to pay him within the next five days.

Your partner in crime asked if this was a good idea, that you didn’t seem capable of gathering that amount of money in the span of time you were given. There was no reason for her to worry; with the heat the two of you were packing now, you now had the ability to rob more than distracted civilians wandering the streets.

But before you could even enjoy your brand new firepower, luck decided to be a total asshole again. It was only the second day when you both were ambushed by a group of ruffians. Their quirks were pretty damn impressive, honestly. One of them levitated your gun right out of your hands before you could even fire, instantly leaving you helpless so that the other dudes could close in and beat the snot out of you.

The two of you woke up, bruised, bloodied, and stripped of Giran’s weapons. Damn, you don’t remember a deal ever going south this quickly. Must be a new record.

Alright, so your weapons were gone and you only have a fraction of the money so far. You can figure this out. Your partner was fuckin’ hysterical and you have to smack her before she gives herself a heart attack. The money was barely coming in, and before you knew it, the fifth day had arrived.

Yeah, you weren’t ready to face him yet.

Look, you weren’t exactly running away from him, you were just making sure to give yourself some space while you got your shit back together. That’s why you immediately moved to another part of town and now made sure to never drive down the same route twice. No, you weren’t gathering money for yourself and completely brushing off Giran, like your partner was suspecting. She has no idea what she’s talking about so she needs to shut up already and help you sell this jewelry that you worked so hard in stealing.

Okay, maybe Giran has been trying to call you for the past couple of days and you were officially ghosting him, but she didn’t need that knowledge to add to her stress. You probably weren’t even in any danger. The deal didn’t cost that much, and he didn’t seem like the type of guy to get truly pissed over some petty crook like you, right?

It’s been a week since the due date, and you both were still safe and sound. It was time to get your paranoid little buddy and discuss your next course of action.

When you reached her shoddy rented room, the door was already cracked open. Strange, and very careless; she should know better. You pushed it the remainder of the way and strutted inside. “Don’t leave your door open, dumbass. Anyway, I gotta—”

Your partner was sprawled out on the bed, open eyes still showing hints of the terror that she most definitely felt before her body became riddled with bullets. The smell of smoke and blood finally reached your nose when the shock of the scene before you wore off. The poor gal probably didn’t deserve such a gruesome fate.

“Oh…nevermind.” You close the door and briskly walk through the hall and out of that dangerous building.

------

This all led up to you speeding to your own run-down apartment.

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, now. This might have nothing to do with Giran. Maybe she pissed off some guys behind my back, or maybe I pissed them off and they found her before they found me. I keep forgetting just how many shit-lists probably have my name on them.’

Whatever it was, that instinctive twist in your gut was telling you that it was no longer safe around these parts. You had overstayed your welcome, anyway.

You glanced in every direction as you entered the building. At what time was your partner killed? If they’re after you too, do they already know where you live? There was no time to waste.

Checking to see that you weren't being followed, you entered your room and went straight to packing. You were basically a drifter, so you had few long-term possessions, so few that they could all fit into one bag. You packed your clothes, essential groceries, and your knickknacks that were ripe for selling. You’re loaded up and ready to go, and you don’t even need to go through the trouble of contacting an accomplice anymore. It’s those paper-thin silver linings that keep you going through this endless shitstorm of a life. With a silent goodbye to your short-lived home, you made your way to the door…

And a series of knocks freezes you in your tracks.

The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was dizzying. Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever is on the other side can’t be friendly, but you had checked! You made sure no one was tailing you!

You backed away while your eyes darted around, deciding if you should defend yourself or find an alternate route to escape. Your only line of defense was a switchblade, so fighting was probably as bad of an idea as it usually was. You looked back to the single window in the room. ‘The fire escape.’

Several harder knocks spurred you into action. You unlocked and pulled at the old window, the worn frame almost breaking off as it opened. The damn ladder and stairs were one room across, but you can jump across the sills if you were careful enough.

There were more knocks, this time followed by a male voice. “Why the hell are we knocking? She’s not gonna answer.”

Another man responded. Shit, there’s more than one? “True. I just like to give the peaceful route a try.”

Something happened to the door that your fear-addled mind couldn’t comprehend. In the span of a second, the wooden door’s shape was warped and shrunken down into a small sphere. You didn’t spend any time to observe the two men at the entrance—you were already scrambling out of the window. The small ledge was difficult to balance on. If you could just get enough leverage for a jump…

“Oi!”

Fuck, you had to take the leap now, but before you could, a pair of hands took hold of you. In a blind panic, you drew your small blade and swung wildly at your attacker, doing your best not to lose your footing. One hand drew back and you heard a hiss of something like “little bitch”, and you thought this was your chance to break free and get away, but the hand still gripping the waist band of your pants got hot, so hot that it reached your skin and had you yelling in pain from the intense heat. With a powerful yank, you were falling back into the room and being pinned to the floor.

‘No no come on, Lady Luck. You’re always here to save my ass, right? I could use your help right fucking now.”

You thrashed and screamed, but then you saw the face of your captor and ew, that shit made you scream even louder. At least make the last face you see more appealing and less…burnt.

The burned man just looked annoyed while holding you down. “Just compress her already.”

Compress? What? Were they about to crush you? That sounds like a really shitty way to go. A gloved hand was pressed to your head, and everything began to distort at a rate too fast for your mind.

It was dark…you felt like you were floating…are you dead? Did it happen that fast? At least it was painless. There was a voice echoing somewhere, but all you saw was blackness. It sounded like it was coming from above. “God?” He’s real, after all?

God sounded very similar to the burnt asshole that attacked you. “That was easy. Why did he need us for this?”

The other voice that you still couldn’t attach a face to answered. “Giran does a lot for the League. It’s only fair that we do him the occasional favor, isn’t it? Her partner has already been taken care of.”

Well shit. Not only were you still alive, but you had been captured in some way to be delivered to him. You wanted to believe that you were in no serious danger, but no one sends two guys to break into your place and abduct you unless they had something sadistic in mind. Maybe your late partner was onto something this whole time.

The talking continued, but the sound was so faint. It’s like you were wearing a thick pair of earmuffs. This entire void, or whatever it is, was uncomfortable—the darkness seemed vast, yet it felt claustrophobic and heavy, like a powerful gravity preventing you from moving. What kind of quirk was this?

The mystery man was talking again. “Your arm is bleeding.”

“Oh right, she caught me with that little blade.” The burnt one said calmly. “It’s not that bad. My arms can’t feel much.”

“It’s not the pain I’m worried about; find something to wrap it up!” There was a sound that was difficult to discern, possibly a long sigh. “She made quite a scene at the window. I hope she didn’t bring any attention to us.”

You heard a grunt from the burnt one and could picture him shrugging. “If anyone asks, we’ll just say that she was a jumper and we stopped her.”

“…Who in the world tries to jump from only three stories?”

“A dumbass, and I’m pretty sure that’s what she is.”

The burnt guy can kiss your ass.

Their conversations were the only indication of time passing. Maybe you heard a few noises from whatever area they were currently in, such as a car passing by or a dog barking, but it was all too muffled to know for sure.

You hope you won’t be stuck in this prison for too long. The emptiness of it all was going to drive you insane. The abyss apparently sensed your distressed, shaping lights and colors all around and lifting the phantom weight off of you so quickly that you had to hold down a rush of bile in your throat.

It’s still fairly dark…a dimly lit room, no furniture, your knees on a hardwood floor, a figure sitting in front of you…

“Good morning.”

A greeting has never filled you with so much dread, uttered by a voice you haven’t heard in nearly two weeks.

The big-time broker himself was seated before you in a simple metal chair. When you met him in the bar to do business together, he had such a nonchalant aura around him, friendly yet detached. The smirk on his face seemed permanent, wearing it even now as he stared down at you, the little rat that has been hiding in the cracks of the city to avoid his sight. You didn’t feel threatened at all when you spoke in the bar; part of you knew that this man was in no way harmless, but he didn’t go out of his way to intimidate.

But now, even with the same relaxed posture and the same informal tone, his presence was sending strong chills down your spine with your brain screaming DANGER.

Giran leaned in, elbows resting on his thighs and a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers. The hanging bulbs illuminated only parts of his face, leaving the rest in a menacing shadow. “How have you been?”

You had no idea how to answer that. “F-fine?”

He gave a satisfied hum, as if he cared about your wellbeing. “That’s good to know. You’ve been hard to contact lately, so I had no idea.”

You swallowed, or at least you tried, but your throat was forgetting how to work properly. “I…” A cough escaped you. “I’ve been busy.”

His gruff chuckle unsettled you. “Of course. We’re all so busy these days, aren’t we? I’m not the type to stick my nose in others’ business, but may I ask what you’ve been so busy with? Hopefully something that involved gathering my money?” There it was.

Creating some more distance between your potential killer might help you think a little more clearly through the loud beating in your head, so you crawl backwards on shaky limbs like a drunk crab. “Y-yes! I’ve been doing my best, it’s just that I ran into a little problem an—” You bumped into something, turning your head to see a man looming over you. His attire was sharp, like that of a showman—even had a damn top hat. However, the mask he wore was rather ominous, the strange pattern resembling an abstract face. He didn’t budge when you had backed into his leg, only looking down at you as if you were a scared kitten.

In the corner of your vision you noticed the burnt one leaning back against the wall, watching you with disinterest. If it weren’t for the cold stare and the peril that he’s already put you through, you’d dare to admit that the greenish-blue hue of his eyes were kind of pretty.

“Don’t mind them,” Giran said with a lazy wave. “Those two are being kind enough to stick around in case I need them again. So, you were saying?”

You tried to recall where you were in your improvised excuse, and decided that you couldn’t risk having such a lie backfire. “I-I’m working on it. I have most of it so far. I just need a little more time.”

Giran’s face didn’t change. “And how much do you have?”

“Um…I…” What the hell do you say? Are you just digging yourself deeper? Is it possible to go any deeper? “Maybe I don’t have most, but I will soon so—”

“How much do you have?” It was firmer this time, making you shrink back. Dancing around his question wasn’t a good idea.

With a shaky breath, you answered quietly, “A hundred thousand yen.”

Giran placed the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag before blowing out a small cloud of toxic fumes. “A hundred thousand…of my three hundred thousand yen.”

Fuck, when he says it like that, maybe that is a lot of money to be missing out on.

You honestly wished he would show some sort of anger; his unwavering calmness was making you more anxious than any kind of rage.

“Can you tell me what you didn’t understand?” He asked.

“Huh? What…do you mean?” You couldn’t hold back the tremble in your voice.

“When we talked, I thought I made my measures clear. I give you the weapons, you pay me within the next five days. For every late day, I add more to what you already owe me. And if you take way too long, I’ll have to personally show you why you shouldn’t make deals where you can’t hold up your end.” He took another drag. You’re getting a feeling that the shrinking roll of tobacco is playing a big role in maintaining his leveled head. “Well, that all sounds clear to me, but there must be something in that explanation that didn’t get through to you, because you just ignored all of it.” Those final words were topped with a humorless laugh.

Just like that, every foolish decision you’ve made during the past week slams down on you. You were like a child that was confident they could escape whatever punishments were planned for them, now that they were finally caught, they just wanted to blubber endless apologies in hopes of being forgiven, and that’s exactly what you do. “Please, please just give me more time. I’m sorry. I just need another chance.”

Giran simply rests his head in one of his hands while pondering. “You know, this normally wouldn’t bother me. I consider myself an even-tempered guy. But you just had to go and run, avoiding my calls and hiding away for an entire week. If there’s anything that steams me up,” his brows furrowed, the first physical sign of anger that he’s shown. “It’s when an uncooperative client runs from me. Sorry about your friend, but I had to make sure I got my point across. Now it’s your turn.”

He reached into his violet jacket and pulled out a knife. Most of it was a large bulky handle, topped with a short but efficiently thin and curved blade. A wood carving knife.

As he rose from his chair and approached, you were suppressing the urge to just laugh at your own distress, a habit of yours that has caused more than one misunderstanding in the past.

“Compress, if you will.” Giran’s hand beckoned you upwards.

The man still behind you, apparently named Compress, locked both of your wrists at your back before pulling you up on your feet. “Hey-I-Wha-Wait a minute! We can talk! I can fix this!” You stuttered in pure desperation. Giran was poking at the tip of the knife and testing its sharpness, paying no attention to your pleas.

“It’s a shame, really. I happen to have one major weakness,” he admitted while inspecting his pricked finger. “Women. I’m always going easy on them—giving them more chances than they deserve. I can’t help it.” He grips your cheeks roughly, making you squeak. “And it really breaks my heart that I have to ruin such a pretty lady.”

“You don’t have to.” Your squished puckered lips sputter out, making you look and sound ridiculous. “Maybe I cou—"

The knife hovering so close to your face silences you. “Where should I start?” He wondered. You hold as still as possible while the sharp metal lingers dangerously close to your eye. “Maybe I should take out an eye? Maybe both?” His grip on your face prevents you from turning away, so you shut your eyes instead, accidentally releasing the tears that have been gathering in the corners. You feel his hand lower to hold your chin so that he can press the blade against the side of your face, so close to breaking skin. “Or maybe I’ll carve out your cheeks?” A thumb brushes against your lips and pushes past them. “You are quite a talker. Maybe I ought to go in there and remove that tongue.”

Your eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else. The full-body tremors that you couldn’t stop, the press of Compress’s body against your back as he held onto your wrists, anything but the deadly blade trailing across your flesh. Every time the cruel man applied pressure, you braced yourself for the pain of cold steel cutting into you like fresh produce, but he would always pull back. It was pure torture and he hasn’t even harmed you yet.

“Hmm, you really are a cute one,” you heard him murmur as the knife trailed down your neck and across your collar. “Do I really want to carve such pretty skin?”

There was a loud groan, prompting your eyes to open and look to the burnt one who left his post at the wall. “For fuck’s sake, old man. How about I handle this so you don’t have to play mental tug-o-war with yourself?”

Giran didn’t seem fazed by the crude way he was addressed. “Oh? What did you have in mind, Dabi?”

Dabi gave an evil smirk of his own as he walked over. “I wonder how badly I can burn a person without killing them.” A scarred hand was placed on your shoulder and you squirmed at the rising heat. “Maybe we can find out together. How about it, girlie?”

You felt the other man behind you shake with a soft laugh. “So cruel, Dabi. I’m a gentleman myself. I could help, but taking a limb or two from such a beauty would be an unforgivable crime.” The implication of what he could do with his quirk made you fear for your arms that were still in his grasp.

“Great. Chivalry isn’t dead in the world of villains.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, though. She doesn’t look bad.”

There were too many hands on you. A rough aged hand caressed your throat and jaw, a gloved hand was tenderly running through your hair, and burned ones were shamelessly groping your chest and squishing your breasts. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut it.” Dabi snapped, not letting up his assault. “Burning you might be a waste. Maybe I should just fuck you instead.”

Your stomach twisted in disgust at the very thought. The other two men pulled back and stilled at the suggestion. This nasty motherfucker wishes he’d get some. At least there were more reasonable voices in the room to keep the sicko away.

“Well now, that’s not a bad idea.” Giran declared with a nod of approval.

‘Ex-fucking-scuse me?’

Compress gave your shoulder a suggestive squeeze. “A vulgar way of putting it, but it’s an idea I can get behind.”

“Then it looks like we’ve all come to a new agreement.” The sleazebag exhaled smoke right into your face, stinging your already watery eyes and forcing several coughs out of you. “I hope you’re alright with that, darling.”

You shook your head fast enough to disorient yourself. “No! This is sick! Get your hands off me!”

“No good, huh? You think I should stick to the original plan?” Dabi dared you with a dazzling blue flame appearing in his palm. The memory of his scorching touch had you freezing up. “I’m just kidding, I don’t give a shit if you want this or not. This ain’t a friendly hookup.”

Compress leaned into your ear, voice sounding horribly close even with the mask protecting you from his lips. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to cooperate with us, right? Surely you know how outmatched you are.”

Yes, you knew, yet there’s a little voice strongly urging you to fight and attempt an escape anyway. But you knew that will only end in pain and possibly death, and even though you were dreading what they had planned for you, the pitiful survivor in you is willing to sacrifice your dignity to stay alive. And so, you nodded.

“Very good,” you heard the smile in his praise. Your tender wrists were released so that he could take the hem of your shirt and slowly begin to pull it up. Your arms remained stiffly at your sides, the oppressive air around the three dangerous villains suffocating and leaving you light-headed.

“Cooperation, remember?” Compress reminded you.

With a hitched breath, you raised your arms, allowing him to peel the shirt off and throw it aside. Dabi wasted no time in exploring your newly revealed skin, while the gloved hands moved on to work at your bra and Giran undid your pants. You try to keep your breathing steady as you’re stripped, even when your pants fall down to your ankles. The second your bra is unclasped, you move to cover your freed breasts, only for the scarred bastard to slap your arms away.

“Quit it, I’m trying to feel you up,” He wasn’t very gentle in handling you, and his texture was so strange, wrinkled skin and the staples keeping him together scraping across your mounds. While he ventured lower, the other two men took their turn with your feminine assets.

Giran was fondling you slowly, but he seemed to be paying much more attention to your face, the face that you were having a very hard time keeping blank while Compress was massaging your other breast way too tenderly. It would help to shut your eyes once again, but that only enhances their touches, sparking goosebumps all over and threatening to pull a moan from your throat. You chose to look to the side and hide away from the broker’s dull gaze, but there was no avoiding Dabi’s hand palming your clothed sex, making you yelp. “AH! Don’t! You can’t just—”

He squeezed you down there, sending a foreign buzz through your abdomen. “What the hell did I just say?” He scolded. “I think I know how to shut you up.”

Giran made an amused hum. “Well Dabi, given you were the one who suggested this, I’ll grant you the honor of teaching her a lesson first.”

Your stomach dropped at the rough lips parting into a toothy grin. “You’re too kind.”

“Just don’t ruin her too quickly, alright?” Compress urged him before patting your back and stepping away. Giran also turned away and returned to his chair, leaning back with one leg crossing over the other.

The only one holding you now was the fiery villain; it had you sweating profusely even without the use of his quirk.

“Now, on your knees,” he ordered and pushed down onto your shoulders, forcing you to kneel. Your chest was tightening painfully when he unbuckled his belt to draw his half-hard cock. It wasn’t exactly any comfort, but it was wholly intact unlike the rest of him. “Start sucking.”

You kept your lips sealed and shook your head, only to have your hair grabbed and yanked back. Your pained cry was all he needed to shove his meat into your mouth. Your shout changed into a gag from the fleshy intrusion.

“Sweetheart,” the pet name was uttered with a mocking venom. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of a doubt and believe that you don’t have the memory of a dead goldfish, but in case you do, let me remind you that we brought you here to hurt you.” That dreaded heat was back, his hand threatening to call those blue flames and set your hair ablaze. “So which would you rather deal with: being carved and burned into a bloody mess, or having to please a couple of dicks? Doesn’t the latter sound more bearable?”

You couldn’t pull back to answer, his hold on your head tight and unyielding, so you nodded.

But for some reason, that didn’t satisfy him. “I need you say it. Come on, you can do it.”

‘No I can’t, you overcooked motherfucker! What do you want from me?’ Having no idea what to do but also not wanting to try his patience any further, you worked your voice around the thick rod and managed a choked and barely comprehensible “mmyeff.”

The sloshed word made Dabi laugh and you felt him twitch on your tongue. “Cute. That’s good enough. Now put that mouth to work so I won’t have to turn your head into a torch.”

Admitting defeat, you moved your head to take in more of his growing erection, wriggling your tongue in a poor attempt to get away from his salty taste, only to stimulate him in the process. You feel him respond with shaky breaths, but the fact that you’re servicing this terrible man doesn’t make you want to try any harder.

Dabi realizes your slow pace isn’t changing and his grumpiness quickly returns. “Oh come on, put a little more energy into it. A quirkless bitch living in the worst part of town, this can’t be the first time you’ve had to suck dick to save your life.” You look up and glare at him, which didn’t do much to intimidate when you were blowing him at the same time. He only smirked. “If you don’t pick up the pace, then I’ll have to take charge, and I don’t think you’d want that.”

You push yourself to put in more effort, taking in more of his now fully swollen cock and gagging pathetically. Despite what the singed shithead had guessed, you weren’t experienced with this. Your sex life boils down to a couple of hookups. This hectic existence with its cast of untrustworty characters wasn’t suitable for any kind of serious relationship, and sexual favors were something you tried to avoid as much as possible. Those rare nights with a partner were nothing like this, and you sure as hell would never ask for a fucking audience. A wisp of smoke nearby reminded you of Giran’s presence.

The sick broker was just sitting and watching with interest, his smirk still present. He seemed satisfied with just watching you in this humiliating state. Compress stood out of sight, but he was most likely doing the same. It made you just want to curl up and hide from these hungry eyes.

You heard a tired sigh over you as Dabi adjusted his grip and was now holding both sides of your face.There was no warning when he thrusted forward to jam himself into the back of your throat, the sting making your eyes well up.

“Sorry, but I think I’ve given you enough chances,” Dabi panted while reveling in the feel of your mouth all around him. His cock slid back and allowed you to breathe for just a second or two before plunging back in.

Breathing through your nose was the only option as he pumped in and out of your throat with little restraint. You gurgled helplessly and tried to push at his thighs to keep him from going so deep, but that only made him chuckle and fuck your mouth more roughly. He was in complete control now, so all you could do was take it as best as you could. Saliva gathered as your throat was violated, some of it oozing past your lips and running down your chin.

“Look at you, turning into a drooling mess for my cock. You like having your mouth fucked just like a pussy?” Demeaning words were spoken between his grunts, commenting on the depraved state of your face—you could only imagine how you looked at the moment with your extra lubricated mouth allowing him to move in and out more easily.

The erratic slams of his hips against your face signaled that this torture will be ending soon, as long as you could endure the assault on your windpipe that was making you dizzy. Any cry of distress or plea to slow down was reduced to wet gurgles and more spit bubbling from your mouth. With a teeth-clenched growl, Dabi presses your face flush against his pelvis, engulfed by his musky scent as cum shoots straight down your throat. Black spots were appearing in your vision with both your nose and throat blocked. ‘Can’t breathe…can’t…’

“Hang in there, just need to make sure you swallow every last drop.” He keeps your head locked in place so that you could feel every spasm as he feeds you his seed. Finally, he releases you and steps back, allowing oxygen to rush into your lungs as you coughed and wheezed.

“Whoops, maybe I went a little overboard,” Dabi joked at your shaking form that was hunched over hacking up a mixture of saliva and semen. That fucking bastard…

“You think?” A sarcastic remark sounded from an approaching presence behind you. Compress kneels beside you, placing a hand on your back as your coughing fit slowly died down. “That’s not my ideal way of punishing a lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Giran?”

You didn’t have the strength to look at said man and the amused expression that he was undoubtedly wearing. “I’m not picky myself. It was a good show,” you heard him say. You can physically feel your dignity leaving you.

“Well, I can give you a better one.” The phony gentleman grabbed and straightened you up. You noticed that he had removed his hat, his head concealed by what may be a ski mask. It was strangely symbolic—beneath all of that pizzazz was just another unforgiving criminal. “Dabi certainly did a number on you, didn’t he?” He observed, fingers tracing over your chest and the drying drool that had trailed down. You heard a “damn right” from Dabi who had returned to his spot at the wall. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t leave you so roughed up.”

His words did nothing to alleviate the growing fear as his hand wandered down to your panties, fingers pressing against the damp cloth. “Oh my…and here I was thinking he was being too hard on you. Looks like you didn’t hate it as much as I thought.”

You shuddered at the small chorus of laughter from all three men. Dabi took the opportunity to taunt you again. “I had a feeling she was the type that loves being treated like a hole. The bitch probably would have gotten off if I went a little longer, not that she deserves to.”

“Ah, but I think she does. In fact,” Compress pulled the underwear to the side and touched your slick directly, making you gasp. “I’d say she deserves more than she can handle.”

“N…St…op…” Your voice was hoarse from the abuse your throat had gone through. His fingers began soft strokes against your glistening folds, a feeling that wasn’t unpleasant, but you held back your whimpers to avoid both the vocal strain and giving him any gratification.

The gloved digits moved skillfully across your sensitive lips, kindling a hot desire deep inside of you. No, you really didn’t want to be feeling that from him. Your own hands curl into fists when you feel him prod at your opening, just barely penetrating you and making you bite your lip in a painful effort to suppress a moan.

He looks right at you; you can only guess what face he was making. “Trying not to make any noise, are you?” His free hand removed the patterned mask, revealing chocolate eyes and a smile that wasn’t at all sweet. “I sure do love a challenge. Then again, I already know that I’ll win.”

Any retort you had prepared died on your lips when two fingers slipped into your heat, unable to hold back your whimper even with your mouth closed. “There it is,” he purred close to your face. “But I think we can do better.”

Your cunt throbbed with each brush against your walls. He couldn’t go too deep in your current position, but that didn’t deter him as he pistoned in and out, flexing his fingers every which way until he found that forbidden spot that made you wail. The white hot heat was threatening to smother you completely. You found yourself grasping his arm and weakly pushing at it, silently begging to make it stop before you burst.

‘Don’t look ahead…Giran is watching…don’t look ahead…’ The mantra repeated in your head, echoing loudly to distract you from the unstable knot in your core. The inner chant was to no avail—several hard presses against your nerves had you crumbling beneath the searing heat of your climax. With no restraint remaining, your broken whines rushed out of your convulsing body and echoed through the room. A thumb circles your clit and prolongs the all-powerful sensation.

“Try to bear it, darling.” Compress says to you, but his voice sounds so far away, drowned out by the vibrations starting from your pussy and spreading all over, engulfing you. Even after your orgasm passes, the assault on your sensitive womanhood doesn’t stop, the sensations becoming painful. You would have fallen over if Compress wasn’t holding you, his arm wrapped around you in an insultingly affectionate embrace as he continued to overstimulate you. The words falling from your lips were weak and incoherent, the occasional ‘no’ and ‘too much’ being heard.

Sobbing in the villain’s shoulders, you can make out the blurred violet figure in your foggy vision, still lounging and taking silent delight in your struggles. You just barely noticed the slight curve of his lips as Compress forced you to cum again, pitting your muscles against another wave of excruciating spasms. This time he did let you collapse, your body sprawled out on the floor as your walls continued to clench.

“Hmmph, not bad.” Dabi can be heard, and his voice alone makes your throat burn again.

Compress was still close, curiously squishing your juices between his fingers. “I could have gone for longer, but she still needs energy for the main act.”

You hear a dark laugh from Giran. “So generous of you Compress. What would I do without you gentlemen? Just do me one more favor and remove the rest of your clothes.”

“Of course,” the showman moved over to fully strip you. You stayed limp as he pulled your drenched panties down along with your pants that were still hanging at your feet, then moving on to remove your shoes. You were now completely bare, body shivering despite the warm still air of the room.

“Alright, miss. That’s enough rest. Time to get up and come over here.” Giran orders coolly. There was no urgency in his voice, but you knew you shouldn’t keep him waiting. If only your entire lower body wasn’t screaming. Compress sensed your plight and took hold of your waist, prepared to pull you up.

“No no,” Giran held up a hand while stomping out his cigarette. “She’s a big girl and can stand on her own.”

Compress simply shrugged and retreated, leaving you to force your aching arms and legs to move and lift you up.

Even after being violated, you still couldn’t resist covering your chest and mound as you slowly approached the man that you deeply regret ever getting involved with. You tried to ignore how gross your body felt—the salty fleshy taste lingering on your tongue, the wetness that continued to run down your legs, your bare feet shuffling across the old dusty floor. There was a prominent bulge in his pants, revealing just how much this was all exciting him.

“Sit down and have a ride on me.” It was said so casually that you needed a moment to comprehend.

Dabi barked impatiently. “Hey, don’t just stand there like a modest statue.”

Realizing that Giran isn’t going to take out his erection himself, you lean in to open up his pants, fighting every urge to pull your hands away as they work at the buttons and zipper, pulling down his underwear to watch his cock spring out. He didn’t seem to react, only watching your face like he has been since you’ve been tossed into this damned place. You stare at his waiting dick until you accept that you have to get closer, standing over his legs before lowering yourself down onto his lap. You have to grab the soft yet firm organ to keep it in place as it touches your opening.

He was so close, smoke-scented breath hitting your skin. There was no way to avoid his gaze at this proximity. He was free to see all of the shameful details on your tear-stained face.

It pains you to admit that Compress’s fingers made the stretch more bearable as Giran’s head pushes into your cavern that was still sensitive from the previous man’s onslaught. You had to place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as your hips sunk down on him, breaths shallow throughout your poor attempt to stay relaxed and not tighten up. Several inches later, you had him fully sheathed inside you.

“Good. Very good.” His voice was low and rugged, eyes closing briefly so that he can take in your surrounding heat. “Now start moving. I didn’t bring you over just to keep me warm.”

You didn’t have enough pride left to protest, so you did as instructed, slowly lifting your hips before bringing them back down, ignoring the strain put on your thighs. Giran placed a hand on your ass, the contact making your pace falter for just a second. He looked so at ease as you bounced on him that you wondered, if it was just the two of you, perhaps you could have taken this as an opportunity to attack. But in the current situation, it would only lead to certain death. The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came.

“Three days.” The two words cut through your weary breaths and the squelch of your pussy. You give Giran a look of confusion before he specifies. “I’m giving you three more days to collect the money.”

The news surprises you enough to halt your hips, an action he doesn’t approve of.

“I didn’t say stop.” The warning in his tone had you instantly moving again. He lightened at your compliance; he sure knew how to flip his friendly mode on and off like a damn light switch. “Very good. I’m trying to show you some more mercy here. Don’t ruin it for yourself. Anyway, you need to hurry and do whatever you can to get that money. Steal, call some old friends, maybe sell your body? I don’t think you’d be half-bad at that.” He gave your rear a light smack, making your walls squeeze him in shock. “If you don’t have enough by the time we meet again, your lovely body won’t stop me from peeling your skin off a second time. Are we clear, sweetheart?”

The fear from his threat grips your chest as you keep trying to please him, moving in a way that keeps his dick away from your g-spot. “Yes,” you whimper through your pants.

Giran caught on to what you were doing. “I’m not convinced.” Both of his hands take hold of your hips and push you down, forcing stimulation on your hypersensitive bundle of nerves. A scream rips through your burning throat. “I’ll say it again: Are we clear?”

“Yes!” Your voice cracks and tears are flowing down your face once again.

“You won’t run from me again?”

“No! I swear I won’t!”

“Good girl.” He was the one setting the pace at this point, forcing you up and down in pursuit of his release. There was another agonizing orgasm growing in your abdomen, but the hands controlling your movements weren’t giving you a chance to escape the inevitable storm.

The final slam collides his throbbing cock with your cervix, and the pained pleasure has you quivering in his hold, crinkling his shirt with your white-knuckled grip as you cried out from every foul spurt into your womb. His soft groans were heated against your neck.

His pats of approval on your back are enough to push your worn figure into his chest. He chuckles and rubs you like a lover that didn’t just force you into the most disgraceful moment of your life. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Despite your limbs feeling like pure lead, you wanted to get off this man as soon as possible. “Please just let me go.”

His smile filled you with a fresh wave of dread. “Soon, darling. But I need to make sure I’ve made my point. I think the other two gentlemen would appreciate a turn.”

You heard the quick footsteps before he even finished, scarred hands grabbing and pulling you off of Giran’s softening cock. Fuck, the two had been so quiet for the past moment that you forgot about their presence.

You jolt at the feel of Dabi’s revived hard-on pressing against your back while Compress stops right in front of you, his own length bobbing freely. You flinched at the damp gloves caressing your chin and lips. “Are you ready to return the favor? Don’t worry, I won’t treat your mouth as badly as Dabi did.”

“Sadly,” The crueler man behind you added before pressing down and bending you forward, your head now leveled with Compress’s waiting dick.

“Open up for me,” he orders with a hand resting in your hair. Your jaw still ached from the last cock in your mouth; you hoped that he truly was going to at least be more gentle as you parted your lips and took him in.

Dabi rubbed up and down your spine as he watched. “Well look at you, such an obedient little bitch now.” He began to knead your ass cheeks before spreading them, your body tensing in fear as a finger toyed with your back entrance.

“I’m not a fan of sloppy seconds, guess I’ll have to take another hole.” It was the only warning he gave before his thickness was pushing forcefully into your unprepared ass. The searing pain was as intense as his quirk, your muffled shrieks vibrating against Compress and making him moan. Dabi smiled at your suffering. “Can’t complain, ‘cause this sounds a lot better. Hope I don’t do too much damage in there.”

He fucked you as hard and fast as your tight passage would allow, pushing the other villain’s dick further into your throat with each thrust.

Soon, they will switch places. And then they will take you separately. And Giran will stay seated, taking pleasure in watching you break.

Your mind eventually wanders to what will happen afterwards, if there is any possible way to right the biggest wrong you’ve ever committed…or if you simply had three days left to live.

It feels like luck is done saving you.

--------------------------------------------

tagging @mothwithteeth because their thirst for Giran inspired me. Go check them and their awesome work out!

#bnha #smut #dabi #giran #mr. compress #dabi x reader #giran x reader #mr. compress x reader #tw noncon #tw death

326 notes · View notes

manicdragondreamgirl · 4 years ago

Text

I haven’t had chemistry since like 2008, and I’m also an idiot who likes to make my friends upset, so I rated the periodic table in order to tilt my friends:

Hydrogen - this is like your childhood friend who has always been with you more or less and always will be down to get a drink and chill even tho you haven’t spoken in years. Solid bro imo 7.5/10

Helium - always down for a good time, even if probably created Alvin and the Chipmunks which in some places is considered a war crime. 4/10

Lithium - Gives me bitchy vibes and is flammable as fuck if I remember. Skinny bitch with an attitude 3/10

Beryllium - idk this sounds like a sailor moon villain lol for that it can have a 6/10

Boron - more like BORONG amirite ha ha wait no seriously I have no idea lol 5/10 clean neutral rating

Carbon - *screaming* 2/10 I will not be taking questions

Nitrogen - cool cool cool tight tight tight 9/10 Nitrogen just is the cool hot chick you wish you were

Oxygen - kid who takes up all the glory for the group project even tho you did all the work, 4/10 for natural charisma

Fluorine - lol what are you knockoff chlorine lmfao bitch 3/10 reminds me of the dentist

Neon - I can vibe with this boy for his contributions to signs which cause my eyes to scream 8/10 modernized Art Deco thanks you

Sodium - 10/10 this is me and I won’t be taking questions next element

Magnesium - magnesium is a close relative of magnificent and therefore I think the case is closed folks 9/10

Aluminum - 10/10 for providing a home to my Diet Coke addiction I’d be dead without you

Silicon - 6.9/10 :smirk:

Phosphorous - This has a very soundly name and it’s welcome to do that but idk, not a fan, seems like he’d be smelly, 2/10

Sulfur - 1/10 pretty sure that dog farts are purely comprised of this and as such if I was leaving negative ratings I would

Chlorine - 7.8/10 for being in pools so we could swim without brain eating amoeba in the south you a champ

Argon - he seems like a nerd jk this guy has a good color 9/10 for just being himself

Potassium - I hate bananas and this word gives me the physical sensation of biting into one but only by thinking of abstract letters and making them into something which we can nutrientise from bananas and to me that shit is bananas, b a n a n a s — 3/10 for making me sing hollaback girl thru adhd word association

Calcium - hm my brain went to mega milk so you get a 2/10 today bud I don’t make the rules

Scandium - pretty sure this is fake lol what’s next faxdium, e-Mailite and copinium? 5/10

Titanium - this song’s a banger and also is the only thing that lets me wear earrings 10/10

Vanadium - if your erection lasts for longer than like idk it’s supposed to then don’t take vanadium wait what do you mean it’s not an ED treatment 4/10

Chromium - decent bloke shame the browser eats all your memory 5/10

Manganese - if a weeb tries to tell me how to pronounce mayonnaise one more time... 1/10

Iron - excellent tool against the fey, in your blood, what a bro, 10/10 this bitch slaps

Cobalt - has a powerful energy; I respect him. 8/10

Nickel - if I had a nickel for every time someone made this joke lol 5/10 he’s doing his best

Copper - taste bad 3/10

Zinc - isn’t that the dude in the green tunic and white tights who saves premcess Lelda or something lol 7/10 those games are good

Gallium - seems like a prick 4/10

Germanium - sounds like a child pronouncing geraniums which are superior 3/10

Arsenic - bad vibes coach 1/10

Selenium - isn’t this just sailor moon lol 10/10 love this bitch

Bromine - farmine wherever you aremine - 9/10 I love a good bro

Krypton - he’s okay I guess 5/10

Rubidium - yet another Steven universe villain who will be redeemed I imagine 4/10 seems a bit dull

Strontium - I feel nothing when I see this lad’s name and that seems like a shame 1/10 I don’t like it

Yttrium - this is an atrium in Yharnam, or something 8/10 would love to sit in one and make contact with higher beings

Zirconium - oh wait THIS is the sailor moon villain from the dead moon circus! 9/10 I enjoyed that arc

Niobium - seems sassy, I like that in an element 7/10

Molybdenum - I hate this one, rancid. 1/10 for making me have flashbacks to difficult Ancient Greek vocabulary there is no fucking way that sound combination is anything but Beta and Delta borking and then Latin being like oh imma steal that

Technetium - 6/10 decent name but seems a bit forced

Ruthenium - 5/10 kindly old lady element I guess lol

Rhodium - 10/10 this ain’t my first rhodium babee this lad has good vibes what a name what a king

Palladium - 10/10 for making me think of paladins

Silver - 12/10 I’m breaking the rules for this silver is the best it is so cool and also it is the other best tool for dealing with supernatural creatures when iron has failed you highly suggest Even if I am extremely allergic to it going into my ears...wait hold on

Cadmium - 2/10 sounds like a total douche

Indium - 8/10, i just think it’s independent and neat

Tin - 10/10 good ear sounds when involving rain and roof shapes and automatically reminds me of Nora Jones’s come away with me album which is also 10/10

Antimony - 7/10 decent protagonist good name all around seems rad

Tellurium - tell ur mom what? That’s so early 2010s league of legends humor bro 2.5/10

Iodine - strikes fear in my soul from having it poured on my wounds but this is why I have more pain tolerance than god 5.3/10

Xenon - I think this is a declension of Xena warrior princess which is a win in my eyes, 8/10

Caesium - kind of has a cunty Latin name, 4.5/10

Barium - yeah boss, bury’im! 7.5/10 I love a good mobster gag

Lanthanum - A bit pretentious on the Tolkien spectrum sorry bud 3/10 sounds like you’d be the dickwad elf everyone hates

Cerium - 6.5/10 I like this one, gives me a clean vibe

Praseodymium - the fuck who sneezed all their alphabet soup onto the paperwork and called it an element Christ we can’t keep doing this 1.5/10

Neodymium - oh my god what did I just say 1/10

Promethium - thank Christ we’re back to greek 9/10 Prometheus was a Chad I could get behind

Samarium - 5/10 gives me boring wizard vibes

Europium - 4.5/10 don’t rename opium chrissake can’t take these nerds anywhere

Gadolinium - 5/10 it’s a starship knockoff but it’s trying to be bold with the G sound

Terbium - 2/10 I don’t vibe with this one

Dysprosium - sounds like an antidepressant that has a lot of shitty side effects 3/10

Holmium - sounds like someone anxious asking their beloved to hold them 8/10 I like hurt/comfort fics

Erbium - you can’t just describe something as herby you daft bastard 2/10

Thulium - sounds like a spell I like it 8.5/10

Ytterbium - macguffin in a shite sci-fi show that gets highly overrated because BBC produced it and superwholock stans emerge and go utterly feral 1/10

Lutetium - bards are an element I agree 10/10

Hafnium - sounds like a river (my dog) sound and has a cute vibe, I’d offer it head pats 7/10

Tantalum - noooo you can’t be sad yuor so sexe haha 6.9/10 tantalizing

Tungsten - 10/10 this is a lad with history

Rhenium - 5.5/10 it’s ok

Osmium - 4/10 I wasn’t a big wizard of oz fan

Iridium - 9/10 sounds like iridescent and that’s in my top 10 favorite words and concepts

Platinum - 10/10 best Pokémon game

Gold - 7.9/10 all that glitters and all but it’s still pretty on some people, silver is better tho

Mercury - yikes 8/10 so it doesn’t kill me

Thallium - sounds like the brother character in a ps4 exclusive western rpg that oddly falls under the radar in terms of reviews and gets shafted at awards for no reason 7/10 I’ll support you tho

Lead - 2/10 that’s gonna be a no from me dawg pretty sure I still have lead in my hands from stabbing myself with my mechanical pencils

Bismuth - 6/10 sounds good in mouth and reminds me of biscuits for some reason, I’ll take it

Polonium - to thine own self be true so stop trying to act like the arts don’t influence science jk pretty sure this is named for Poland but hey that’s where we get the Witcher so you get a pass 6/10

Astatine - 1/10 I don’t even know what you are

Radon - 7/10 this motherfucker knows his shit and how to party, rad is right

Francium - I bring you francium...and I bring you myrdurdium... 7/10 for a good vine

Radium - killed the video star probably 9/10 I can get behind her

Actinium - as opposed to passtinium I prefer actinium in the voice of writing 8/10

Thorium - overrated Norse god 5/10 because lightning is still cool

Protactinum - sounds like some pretentious condom brand 4/10 wouldn’t do it with a dude who bought these

Uranium - I always thought she was a hot sailor scout 10/10

Neptunium - same for her I knew they weren’t cousins you couldn’t lie to me 4kids 10/10

Plutonium - sounds like a macguffin unfortunately 5/10

Americium - I read this with a pivotal letter missing and nearly died, 7/10 for the laugh

Curium - 10/10 gives me Curie vibes and also reminds me of curiosity which reminds me of—[old yellered before the association could set in]

Berkelium - what I shout when I want Burke (fam dog) to slaughter innocents and raze territories 2/10 world was not meant to know his commands

Californium - 1/10 California is cool with geography but probs could stand to chill with the ego sorry to my friends in Cali

Einsteinium - 6/10 it’s alright but we’re really running out of ideas huh

Fermium - 3/10 this one is porny

Mendelevium - 1/10 my brain didn’t like parsing this and I stand by my earlier statement of running out of good names

Nobelium - 0/10 you didn’t name any noble gases this cowards this gas can’t be a noble oh wait it’s NOBEL I take it back 5/10 seems an alright chap

Lawrencium - fear the old blood my sorry dead hunter’s ass I’ll never get back my life from the hours I spent trying to beat this lava shitting bastard 2/10 for being a boss who eats Taco Bell specifically before being challenged to have fresh lava shit with which to punish you for having the audacity to exist in his space

Rutherfordium - my god what a snob 4.2/10 I respect him a little but only because he sounds like a right lad

Dubnium - DROP THE BASS 10/10

Seoborgium - not sure about this one but it can have a 7/10

Bohrium - as an American English speaker this sound combination makes my pathetic throat become a black hole as I try to properly create the sound of it 10/10 I love when my body becomes a massive void in the universe

Hassium - lazy 2/10

Elements 109-118 can go fuck themselves I hate them all, collective 6.66/10 for their general demonic vibe

#the periodic table #made by an idiot #it’s me your manic dragon dream girl #long post

35 notes · View notes

whetstonefires · 5 years ago

Note

Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.)

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

342 notes · View notes

animemangasoul · 4 years ago

Text

Save Him From Him!

Summery: The team thinks the bats are marrying Tim off to Ra’s al ghul, so they confront them. The bats unfortunately don’t know what the hell is going on.

Me and the lovely @miss-choco-chips are hopefully going to make a coherent fic out of this

Chapter 1

Kon had never liked Tim’s family.

His best friend might find redeemable qualities in them, but Kon has always known the kind of people they were. Sleazy, weird, neglectful and frankly very very creepy.

Tim of course never noticed because he too was very creepy and in the kindest of terms, also a weirdo who came off as a stalker.

Not that he was. Following a vigilante in the dead of night with a camera was more in the brackets of observation than stalking and Kon would stick with that till the day he died.

Anyways, as he was saying. The batfamily were irredeemable blotch in Tim’s life and while Kon has resigned himself to share his friend with them because custody and all that, he had never ever imagined that they would sell him off! That they not only would grow tired of him but would actually take the offending and criminal actions to do something about his quote on quote unwanted “presence”.

Bruce Wayne had come to an agreement with Ra’s Al Ghul according to Bart’s sources and the agreement was set around their Tim.

Bruce had promised their Tim to the demon head! In exchange for three years of peace. As if that even mattered to Batman. If that man cared so much about peace and justice he would have advocated for the death penalty in Gotham a long time ago. No, Kon had his sneaking suspicions about Bruce’s relationship with the Joker, but it wasn’t his place to say so he kept his mouth shut.

Poor Jason would be heartbroken if he knew after all.

So for what other reason was this arrangement made under? Kon couldn’t quite tell. Sure he knew they didn’t like Tim, but if Bruce disliked his best friend and wanted to get rid of him, why hadn’t he promised to wed him to any of them? Kon was sure Cassie or Bart would be up for it, or even Miguel and Cissie? So why?

Kon is angry, furious, horrified about this whole uncovered plot.

Bart and Cassie aren’t any different.

Tim of course doesn’t know, and if Kon gets his way he never will.

“Maybe this is a misunderstanding?” Someone says.

Kon turns to glare at Miguel. ‘How naive’ he thinks. ‘How little you know.’

“It’s not a misunderstanding dude,” Bart jumps out of his chair, a stack of paper in hand which he promptly shoves at the other hero. “Read.”

Miguel does. Eyes quickly skimming over the report Bart’s spy had so generously provided them. And it’s a lot but the front page summarizes must of it.

Batman had visited the league, him and Ra’s had talked.

“And Ra’s said he’ll back off if he got Tim,” Miguel reads out loud. “What the--”

His eyes are wide as he throws paper after paper over his shoulder trying to grasp the context of the file. Bart is darting behind him catching each flying paper, spluttering in indignation as he does so.

“Can you not do this!”

“That’s exactly what Tim’s siblings should have said to Bruce!” Miguel bursts out, eyes as wide as dinner plates. “How could he just promise him Tim! My Ti-- I mean our Tim! He could have given him anything else..... like that Jason fellow!”

“Dude, that’s not---”

“Like Ra’s didn’t even ask for Tim specifically!” Throwing another three leaflets he points at a paragraph on page fifteen. “He just alludes to it, so why did Bruce decide to give him--”

“Cuz he probably did that weird thing with his eyes,” Cassie scoffs, demonstrating the action by wiggling her brows and squinting her eyes in that distinct way Ra’s always-- “Batman,” she slurs. “I have missed a certain someone’s company~”

Kon feels sick. Miguel turns green and Bart grimaces.

Yeah, that did not need to happen.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Kon tells her, eyes watering with pained memories. “Just.... don’t.”

She snorts. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah don’t,” Miguel mutters. “There is already enough memories about that guy burned in our heads I rather you not add to it.”

Trauma was really a powerful thing.

“So,” Bart interrupts Kon musing. “What are we going to do about this?”

Kon folds his arms. “We need to confront them. No way we can let this go through. I think the reason why Bruce agreed so readily to this exchange was cuz he hates Tim’s guts and wants to get rid of him.”

“But Tim is so wonderful,” Miguel mutters. “Why would anyone want to get rid of him?”

Shrugging, Kon grimaces. “Beats me. The bats are a strange bunch. Anyways, it doesn’t really matter now. We just have to go there and,” his reaches out and clenches and unclenches his fists

“Squash their heads?” Cassie guesses.

“What, no!” Kon snaps.

“Kidnap Beelzebub and hold him for ransom till they change their minds?” Bart pipes up.

Kon shakes his head, pauses and shakes it again. “No, but that’s a good one. Hold that thought.”

“Talk to them reasonable and maybe.... hopefully it’s all a misunderstanding?”

Oh Miguel, you innocent naive, Tim loving soul you. “Fuck no,” Kon mutters. “We can trust their evil conniving hearts. When dealing with the bats always assume the worst.”

“Then what?” Bart asks, half of the papers clutches to his chest while the others dangle from Miguel’s hands.

“We confront them, threaten them,” Kon starts. “And if they won’t take it back, we...” snapping his fingers he points at Bart--. “We kidnap the gremlin and threaten to squash his head.”

Cassie looks both annoyed and skeptical, but the other two look onboard so Kon grins. “Sounds like a plan?”

They nod, he nods back. “Let’s go then and break that engagement before Tim wakes up for his hourly coffee!!”

A shouts of yeah ok and yes and oh God sounds all around, but Kon is glad for the general moral optimism. Maybe this exchange with the batfamily wouldn’t end in a disaster.

Kon had to thank Prue later for providing Bart this crucial intel. Without her, they would have never known of this evil scheme.

@miss-choco-chips Do take it from here!

#kon el kent #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #Miguel Jose Barragan #Young Justice #tim drake #batfamily #crack fic

101 notes · View notes

danadeservesadrink · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 3

Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 3: Seems Like You Didn’t Fix Your Problem

“Dana Scully speaking”

“Seems like you didn’t fix your problem Dr. Scully.”

“Oh good it’s you.”

“You got another package.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I forgot to save your number. You’ve been calling my mother’s house.”

“Oh.”

“I needed you to call back. So I sent you something.”

“Oh.”

“You can open it if you want.”

“You know you could have just looked me up Scully”

“Didn’t think of that. I’m gonna be in town Friday. I understand if you have plans but I would like to go out with you and…”

“Yes.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes. Drinks, dinner, anything you want.”

“Ok. I can meet you at the apartment. Have you been to Fluer’s yet?”

“No never got around to fancy french dining.”

“I’ve been dying to try it. They opened right after I left. 7 sound ok with you?”

“Yea that's perfect.”

“See you then Mulder.”

“See you then Scully.”

She sent him a package. Before she had called he almost gave up on the beautiful Dr. Dana Scully. When she left him two weeks ago all he wanted to do was see her again. He thought about her every second. Hell, he even dreamed about her. She had infiltrated his mind and his soul and she was stuck like glue to every thought he had. He walked past shops and wondered if she would buy anything in them. He wondered what her favorite pizza toppings were. His mind formed a million questions about Dana fucking Scully from whether she liked cats or dogs to whether she had lingerie that matched that navy blue dress of hers.

But then she didn’t call him.

He let the first few days pass, but staring at the phone waiting for it to ring was becoming his social life and the gunmen were getting concerned.

“You don’t even know her Mulder” Langley said on the fourth night. He kept track of days now in nights since he’d seen her. Like ticks on the walls of the pit of his existence without her. “She could be a murderer. Or a spy.”

“She could murder me if she wanted too.” Frohike chimed in.

“Maybe she's a plant, sent to debunk your work.” Byers received a glare for that one.

“Listen, she’s none of that. She’s just a woman, and she’s probably not even interested. She would have called by now if she was” Mulder sulked on their couch, nursing a beer.

“Her loss buddy.”

“Yeah. Her loss.”

When the package showed up on his doorstep he actually laughed. Of course fate would drop an excuse into his lap right as he was moving on. It had been a week and he was just starting to get to the point where he didn’t run to the phone every time it rang praying to a god that it was her, and what he got in return was a choice. He contemplated just leaving the package on the step, pretending he didn’t see it, forcing her to call him and apologize.

But calling her was always going to be what he did. So when he wound up on the phone the second he got off work he really wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise him was the little game she had played. She sent him a package and now he was holding a hand-selected present from Dana Scully herself and an invitation to a fancy french restaurant late Friday night.

The package was addressed in handwriting too. He thought it might be from some distant relative but now that he considers it, it's probably her handwriting. Neat print fit for a doctor. He noticed she put Dr. in front of her name this time and he chuckles.

He rips the tape off and a DVD case drops out. He flips it over and of course it's the Exorcist because Dr. Dana Scully just had to make him fall in love with her even more. There’s a sticky note taped to the front of the case and his smile grew with every word.

Dear Dr. Mulder,

Last time I was in your apartment I noticed this classic missing from your collection. The fact that you have a copy of The Room and not The Exorcist is frankly an insult to film lovers everywhere. If you haven’t called me yet I don’t have your number, and I really would like to speak to you again, if only to improve your taste in film.

Sincerely,

Dr. Scully.

He was going to marry this woman if it killed him.

He might as well rearrange his calendar so that every day but Friday just said “doesn’t matter”, because work could be damned. That morning the hours spent reading through files and papers in his office felt like an eternity, and he found himself practically running out of the office, almost into his bosses secretary who was bent over some cardboard boxes in the middle of the hall.

“Oh Agent Mulder, I didn’t see you there”

“Yea, sorry Katie”

“It’s Kathy”

“Oh. Well goodnight”

He had almost pushed past her when he heard “Agent Mulder” in a voice that sounded more like a bird chirp to him and he would have to explain to his boss why he was so rude the next day if he didn’t so turn around he did.

“What’s up?”

“If you’re not busy, I have some friends who are going to a bar downtown later tonight, I’d love it if you could bump into me again there…” She said the word bump with a little wink and a wiggle in her hips that made her look like a jack-in-the-box.

“I have plans tonight. Sorry Kelly.”

“Kathy”

He didn’t have a chance to see her scowl. He was already out the door.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re very punctual Scully.”

He’d been practicing lines since 5. He practiced opening the door like a 14 year old boy practices taking off a bra. Hell, he cleaned the apartment for 30 minutes before realizing he did the same thing this morning. But when he opened the door every line and moved he’d ever had flitted out of his mind and she took its place. Navy was apparently her color because she was wearing another creation that looked tailor made for her. This one was more modest than the last one, but that didn’t make it any less alluring. A neckline that dipped down only a little in the middle to tease him, and little sheer cap sleeves that danced over her shoulders. She giggled and he swooned.

“Navy brat. My father always liked to be on time.” He stepped aside and she entered into his apartment and he got to take in the open back of that navy masterpiece. Picking his jaw up off the floor he followed her. She sauntered around the place like she owned it, which technically she did at one point, but it made Mulder feel like maybe it was still hers in some way. Clearly she lived here for a long time, she treated the place with this odd sense of familiarity, but the way she touched the counter-top like it might break told him things didn’t end on good terms. She found her way to the window and he joined her, looking out on the street below.

“I really did love this apartment.”

“Why did you leave? Not that I’m not grateful”

He turned to look at her, expecting another one of her giggles but she stayed staring out into the streetlamp.

“I think that’s really more of a second date kind of story”

“So there will be a second date?”

“We’ll see after this one won’t we.” Her smile was back and so was the sway in her hips as she walked back to the front door. “Come on, we’ll be late for our reservations.”

The 5 minute walk over was mostly Scully saying “Have you been to that restaurant yet?” and Mulder replying “Not yet” because unfortunately for him the gunmen prefer to eat in and he really doesn’t have many other friends. But Scully doesn’t need to know that yet, so he is more than happy to play the uncultured outsider to what is very obviously her city. She seemed to have a story for every place they passed. She was halfway through telling him about the time she almost got hit by a rogue street biker when they arrived at Fluers. A very nice host ushered them to their table and he found himself staring at her over a menu and candlelight.

“So how was your wedding”

“It was good. It was a friend from my old job here, before I moved, so I didn’t know many people”

“I’m sure you were a hit” She blushed again, staring down into her menu.

“I’m not usually much of a ‘hit’ these days…”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She looked up at him then with this gaze that he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was it was gone when the waiter showed up to take their order.

“So what about you Mulder. What do you do for fun these days?”

“Oh you know, run, watch movies, contemplate the enormity of the universe and the meaning of life”

“I thought that degree of yours was in psychology not philosophy”

“I took some classes.”

“I always liked Laërtius personally”

“I’m more of a Plato guy.”

“Of course you are.”

They settled into a silence and he found himself staring into her eyes again. She stared back with a smirk until she broke the gaze with a blush and more giggles. The waiter came back and poured the wine he ordered. He hoped she was giggly when she was tipsy.

“So what did you come to the city for?”

“I work at the hospital in the pediatric center as a cancer specialist. I used to work every day but since I moved back home I haven’t been taking new patients, so I only come back to see them. It’s a lot of commute but it’s worth it. I wouldn’t want to have to quit and force them to find a new doctor.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I do what I can.”

Of course she is some child saving super hero of a woman. He already knew he didn’t deserve a smart and sexy doctor, but this just put it over the edge. He was officially way out of his league. Why she was still sitting here was a miracle in and of itself.

“What do you do with that Oxford education?”

“I work for the FBI.”

“Ah, so you’re Agent Mulder.”

“I think I prefer Doctor better.” He could tell she was trying not to smile. He bet that she loved being the Dr. in her relationships. As much as she tried not to show it she was damn proud of herself.

“Do you profile?”

“I used to. Now I do something a little different.”

“Different how?” Her eyebrow quirked up and he chuckled to himself. Most girls are satisfied with the title of FBI agent. If they’re not, a quick flash of the badge will usually make them swoon. But not Dr. Dana Scully. She is not so easily satisfied.

“I work on cases of the unexplained.”

“Everything has an explanation”

“Of course it does Scully. But sometimes that explanation is not something that comes from the world we know”

“Are you talking about UFOs?” She sat back in her chair, eyes wide, and he leaned in, feeling the heat of the candle on his chin.

“UFO’s, cryptids, anything from crop circles to spontaneous human combustion. If the FBI can’t solve it, they toss it in my pile”

She didn’t say anything to him then, and all the confidence he had in spilling what arguably made him the weirdest human anyone had ever met was slowly fading. She took to staring at the flame in the candle, clearly contemplating how she was going to get out of this date, but then she looked up at him and their eyes met and that look burned brighter than any fire he'd ever seen.

“So have you gone Bigfoot hunting?”

#i hope you all enjoy this #I'm terrible at updating fics on a schedule so enjoy these random updates that I've had in my comuter #I'm getting more time to write now so that's good #msr #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf fanfic #The X-Files #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #sam writes

37 notes · View notes

mothmanhamlet · 5 years ago

Text

Feelings are Fatal

I’ve decided to put all my fics here on tumblr, so here we go I guess

Logan is decidedly against love, but the very feeling he hates may just be his downfall.

Logince, 4231 words, Hanahaki au/High school au

Warnings: Major character death! Blood! Kinda swearing idk

Hanahaki Disease. It was just another fact of Logan’s life, the almost magical sickness that caused flowers to bloom in ones lungs as a result of unrequited love. He had to write a paper about it once, about when humans discovered it and how it affects humanity. He got a good grade on that paper, even though he didn’t understand it. Yes he understood the phenomenon, but how anyone could feel that deeply simply evaded him.

He used to pride himself on that, the fact that he always put logic and reason above emotion. It let him get good grades in every class he took, it made sure he focused, and it helped him get through high school without a hitch.

Well almost. Before he could glide through school into an Ivy League, he met Roman Prince.

Roman Prince was the resident drama star and popular kid. He was conventionally attractive, with his curly brown hair, unblemished skin, and light brown eyes. A hopeless romantic, he was dramatic and confident. He and Logan shared Literature and World History together for almost two years.

He could remember the day they first met, 2nd period English Literature. It was a rather bright room with handwritten posters plastered anywhere there was room. A giant messy whiteboard was at the front near the door with a square of desks facing it. The desks seemed to be one for every two people, an odd choice for a teacher but a completely average choice for that particular one. He remembers taking half of one in the front corner.

Once the bell rang to start class, the teacher, Mr. Picani, emerged rather ceremoniously from behind the desk. Immediately, he introduced himself and scribbled “Romeo and Juliet” on the board. From there, the class launched into a conversation about the story, most of them having already read it, which soon turned into a debate.

“It’s just so tragic, they were in love and had to die because of it, what could be sadder?” Roman announced, standing up and waving his hands around to accentuate his point.

“They knew each other for a month at best and then killed themselves, how is that a tragic love story?” Logan said with a scoff.

“How could you just say something like that about one of the greatest love stories of all time?” Roman gasped, turning his attention fully to Logan.

“Juliet was thirteen, she didn’t know what love was.”

“Oh and you would know better?”

“Actually-”

They continued their debate for almost all of class, ending with both of them literally out of their seats and yelling at each other. It was intense and probably not the best first impression. It also caused their suddenly pacifist teacher to switch around their seating, so they ended up right next to each other in a swift move Mr. Picani called the “Get-along-desk”.

For the first few months, it was a hell-scape. Their interactions were explosive, they always had different opinions and neither were willing to compromise. For a while, they just refused to talk to each other, after all it did seem like the logical move at the time. That didn’t last long, as being desk-mates meant being project partners and projects meant communication. If not for Logan’s refusal to disrupt his own learning, they probably would have been kicked out of class. Even in History they weren’t safe, somehow always ending up partnered together. Logan found it infuriating. Roman thought with his emotions, he relied on abstractions and was too stubborn to let go of them. Not to mention, arguing with him was like arguing with the personification of the Uno reverse card. Roman would say that he was the stubborn one, focusing on facts and figures exclusively. Four whole months went by and no one thought they were capable of getting along.

That was until Roman’s twin brother transferred into their class. Remus was everything Logan despised, doing everything thoughtlessly. He would place nightmarish takes on their reading, placing what ifs where they had no business being. Logan was sure he lacked the capability to take anything seriously. Roman could barely stand him too, Remus being the antithesis of him despite the fact that they shared DNA. If Logan hated Roman, he despised Remus.

So of course, when it was time to do team debates, Mr. Picani made the mistake of pairing them against Remus’ group. It didn’t matter how they felt about each other before, they were against a common enemy and needed to best him.

As rivals they were strong. As allies, they were damn near unstoppable. Every issue they had was put aside as they worked on an argument about the feminism of Pride and Prejudice. They used every second of class, discussing evidence and building upon ideas. They even went out of their way to work after class. Logan was finally able to see Roman’s strengths, how passionate he was, how driven he could be, and the creativity he had in every aspect. Sure enough, they got the highest grade in the class, and a friendship was formed. Albeit, it was uneasy and reluctant, but it was a friendship nonetheless.

Soon, unease and reluctance grew to respect. Respect grew to appreciation. After a few months, lo and behold, the get-along-desk had worked. They were not true friends, but they were doing better. They started to acknowledge points they made, even adding in some occasions. They made small talk too, Roman talking about his rehearsals or telling about another person he just had to meet (but ultimately never would). Logan would start to ramble about something he learned. It was little things like that that made their friendship.

It was mid-March when Logan noticed it. Everything had seemingly calmed down since Remus had gotten expelled for performing the macarena during an assembly for the 15th time, and he and Roman were slowly becoming at least acquaintances. They were in history class at the time, when Roman turned to him while they were working.

“European society really did peak in, like, the 1300’s huh,” Roman said nonchalantly, pointing to a knight’s uniform. Of course, Logan was annoyed with him. Somehow, he managed to forget the black plague, despite it being the focus of most of the unit. But it was a different kind of annoyance, more amusement than anything else. And of course Roman wanted to be a knight, he already had the chivalry and honor down to a tee. But he was thinking about that too much.

It was a weird sensation Logan didn’t entirely understand. He probably should have thought about it, as that would be the logical thing to do, however Roman had told him continuously that emotions were illogical and that same weird part of him wanted to listen to Roman. So instead, he ignored the feeling and lectured him on the black plague. It was easy enough to ignore.

He felt it again in English the next day, while he was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. They weren’t required, he simply wanted to. He remembered Dorian reminding him of Roman. A little narcissistic, a bit vain, beautiful. Beautiful. His brain got stuck on that word for a while. He thought Roman was beautiful. But emotions were illogical, so he ignored it. It was easy to ignore.

It continued to be easy to ignore. Sure moments like that would pop up, more and more frequently as time went on, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter the bursts of unexplainable happiness that Logan felt when he saw Roman. It didn’t matter the times Logan lost the ability to articulate in his presence. It didn’t matter that Logan could see just how nice and charming and unique Roman was. It didn’t matter, because he could ignore it.

By the end of the year, he could safely say it was harder to ignore. What was once subtle, was now strong and demanding in his head. That was also the time Logan realized it was hopeless to even want what he now knew he wanted. Over the year, he learned that Roman was in fact, a hopeless romantic. However, the endless string of people Roman fell for had a few things in common. From what he heard, they were all emotional, dramatic, popular, and perfect. Just like Roman.

So, when the year ended, Logan did what he did best when it came to his feelings about Roman. He ignored them.

The summer passed as the summer always did. Logan did mathematics camps, biology camps, astronomy camps, anything that kept him busy and learning. It was almost boring, how routine it was. The only thing that kept nagging at him was his ‘crush’ (the others at camp had taught him the term) on Roman. It never went away as he had hoped, yet he still continued to neglect it. Unfortunately, like a wound left unattended, it would begin to fester.

The school year began, and Logan could almost remember the happiness he felt when it started again. Classes were where he found his confidence, where he was listened to and respected. He was good at school, because it let him use logic and reason generally without complication.

There was, of course, one minor problem. He was waiting in his new English class, coming off of the high that was impressing his orchestra class, as he sat down at an empty table. This teacher seemed much like his previous one, bubbly and energetic. There were more technicolor posters adorning the walls, but everything was less cartoonish. In addition to the spectacled teacher who insisted they call him by his first name, this class seemed to have a TA, a dark shadowy man who must have been a college student. Logan had to have been distracted while taking everything in, as he failed to notice someone sitting next to him.

“Hey Microsoft Nerd, ready to win English again?” Logan turned to see a smiling Roman facing him. Besides simply being startled, Logan jumped at seeing Roman again. He didn’t think Roman would actively seek him out like that.

“Roman, you cannot win English as a class, or a language for that matter, it is not a competition,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. He forgot how pretty Roman was. It seemed his brain was at it again with this inconvenience.

“Au contraire, Pocket Protector, we can and we shall,” Roman said with a grin, his eyes lit up like candles.

So Logan had to be with Roman for another year, which was fine except for the fact that his feelings came back swifter and stronger. It was like his brain couldn’t stop noticing Roman and his smile and how he talked about the things he loved and how good he was.

He did fine, keeping it in the back of his mind, till around mid-October. That’s when he first noticed it.

He was in his bedroom, at the clean white desk doing his homework. He had a cup of tea next to him, his books in front of him, and everything in order. Standard studying procedure. He remembered taking a sip of tea and coughing violently, his lungs burning like a wildfire inside his chest. Coughing and sputtering, he remembered thinking it was the tea, that he attempted to breathe while drinking it. It wasn’t until the burning died down and he felt something soft between his teeth did he understand. Removing it, he could see how bright red it was, a thick petal with uniform teeth marks pressed into it. It had to be a poppy. Coughing again, he feels another, more curly petal. A red carnation. They looked striking on his desk, in a room of mostly neutrals and deep blues, they added color. They popped so strangely it almost hurt to look at. They were objectively beautiful, plump and bright, but what they symbolized horrified Logan. He had really fallen for him, there was no turning back, not now. There wasn't much he could do now.

Well.

Seeing as it was hopeless anyways, no one else needed to know. It was his secret, his mistake to be hidden. So, instead of telling anyone or getting a doctor or doing anything, he swept the red abominations into a little blue trash bin.

He remembered the next month at school being pretty easy, all things considered. He would go about his day as normal, minus the new addition of a water bottle for him to place the horrible beautiful petals. Roman would look at him or smile at him and his chest would ache, but he was sure it would get easier to ignore. He was very good at ignoring.

Harder than that, was explaining how his trash bin became full of scarlet, slightly damp, flower petals. It didn't completely sell him out though. No, that was a few weeks later, when he was in the middle of dinner. They sat rather quietly as usual, when Logan felt the recognizable burning in his chest, however this time was worse, feeling like lit kerosene all the way up his throat. He realized in that moment he was unprepared, no way to hide what would inevitably fall from his mouth. After a minute of wheezing, Logan looked to his plate to find a full, slightly bloodied, red carnation.

His parents stared at him with wide eyes, flitting between the plate and him. It was as if they couldn’t process what had happened. He didn’t want to tell them like this, but it was too late for that now.

“Logan, I think we should schedule a doctor’s appointment,” Logan’s dad said, clearing his throat. It was a simple announcement, one that ended the conversation as they went back into silence.

One week of mild suffering later, Logan was sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of his blood test. He didn’t know how it worked, or why they needed a blood test to determine if he had flowers in his lungs, but he decided not to question it.

The doctor came in with a serious face, as if he was about to deliver bad news and they didn’t already know the answer. He gave his parents a brochure, one with all the options they had, although there weren’t many. There were pills he could take, but they were new, expensive, and had a nasty habit of giving people cancer. There was the tried and true method of explaining your feelings in the hopes it wasn’t actually unrequited and you just thought it was. Then there was the option most people chose, the surgery. It was generally reliable and probably the safest option. It did remove your ability to feel most emotions, but to people with this kind of problem that was kind of a bonus. A security that it won’t happen again.

In the car ride back, Logan already knew what would happen. Sure, a confession would be easy, but even worse than his mild fear of humiliation was his parents’ strong fear of him getting a boyfriend. Or any romantic attachments for that matter. They were of the opinion that school and work came first and anything besides that was a distraction. He himself prided himself on a similar outlook.

“Logan, I think you should get the surgery, it may not seem ideal, but I promise you it will pay off in the end,” Logan’s mom said from the front seat of their car. It was nothing Logan didn’t expect, so he simply sat there looking out the window at the trail of cars around them.

“Ok.”

The next day of school, he was filled with a sort of relief. He would be rid of these emotions that had been annoying him for months and trying to kill him for weeks. He was more relaxed. Unfortunately, because no good thing goes unpunished, he forgot his water bottle in orchestra. Which meant, he wouldn’t have it till after his next class, which just so happened to be English.

He did alright, all things considered, until they were allowed to research for their essays. He felt a burn in the back of his throat that meant flowers were coming. He started to cough, attracting the attention of the others at his table, a blonde girl, a redhead boy, and of course Roman. The emo TA also started to look at him, which was one more step to explaining his… Condition to the class.

A solid minute of wheezing later, two bright red and bloody flowers appeared in his hand, a carnation and poppy each with some stray petals. That drew a little more attention. The teacher gave him a concerned glance, but after Logan shook his head at him, he retreated. A few straggling eyes were suddenly on him, but the ones he was focusing on were the ones sitting right next to him.

“So you do have a heart Lo,” Roman said, reaching out to touch a petal. He had to be dreaming. Roman couldn’t know. Roman wasn’t allowed to know. And Roman had many nicknames for him, but they were never his name. It was as if it were too personal. “I’m very sorry about whoever this is, and I would fight them anytime.”

Logan put on a brave face and straightened the blue tie he tended to wear. “Don’t feel too bad, I’m getting the surgery for it in a month or two.” Maybe if he didn’t look at Roman he would be better at talking about it.

“Oh, good luck then,” Roman said with a smile as Logan looked at him. He could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of sadness in his voice, but Logan was never very good with emotions.

Three weeks came and went without much notice, except for the occasional brave soul asking about his illness. Logan remembered the answers he gave to be extremely clinical, using a lot of logic for a emotions based affliction.

He sat in the doctor’s office, a cold and sterile room, waiting for the doctor to come back with his X-rays, just so they could make sure the surgery would go on as usual. His mother, sat next to him in a light colored chair, squeezed his hand.

“They’re going to fix you, don’t worry,” His mother whispered. Moments later, the doctor came back into the room, clearly trying not to look distraught.

“I’m afraid we ran into a complication,” the doctor said, looking at his mother, “Your son is extremely far along in the disease, and the roots of the flowers grew in an unfortunate place in your son’s lungs. Trying to remove them would cause extreme scarring that would inevitably lead to pulmonary fibrosis, as well as cause severe damage to the blood vessels. Not to mention the fact that his brain is still developing, which means that the alterations to his limbic system could result in abnormal developments. What this means is that your son does not have a high chance of survival, should this surgery go through. I apologize that we were not able to identify these things beforehand, and you still technically can go through with it, though I would not recommend it.”

His mother’s face fell. Logan himself could barely acknowledge what had happened, the words refusing to run through his brain. The pure cleanliness of the room became all the more oppressive, the walls were beginning to close in on him. This, Logan would remember as the beginning of the end.

The next week of school was weighted and dull. His parents started to fight about whether or not he should go on with the surgery, and every day he continued to cough more and more. His parents announced that the next week would be his last at school. It was the march of his last year at high school, it should have been the home stretch for him. In many ways it was.

His last week at school was possibly the most difficult part. He had to explain to his teachers that he would be leaving, he had to watch their faces drop as they realized why he might not come back. His English teacher, Patton as he insisted they call him, cried when he told him. He thought Logan couldn’t see him, but he was able to see the small drops of water in his eyes. Even Virgil-the-TA was a little sadder. He decided no one else would know, if he could help it. Except Roman. As much as he hated the thought of telling him, Roman was his friend, technically his only friend. He deserved to know, Logan decided. He deserved to know everything, or at least a shortened version of it.

Soon, it was Friday. His last day of school went without much fanfare, besides his teachers becoming sentimental. He had also neglected to tell Roman, effectively waiting until the last possible moment. It neared the end of English class, and Logan was prepared. When they were allowed to talk, he turned to face Roman.

“Roman, I’m going to be away from school for a while and do not know when I’ll be back, or even if I will return,” Logan said in his usual directness. It was… Odd talking about his likely death. “So if this is the last time we ever speak, I just wanted to tell you that I-” No. He couldn’t do it. Roman would blame himself for it, and Logan refused to put that on him. Roman didn’t deserve to blame himself for this. For him. “I always thought of you as a friend. A best friend I suppose.”

Roman looked at him with a mixture of shock and sadness. “Logan I li-” Roman said quickly before pausing, letting out a sigh. “Logan, I’m glad I could be your friend. A best friend.”

And that was it. Logan got on with the rest of his day, and went home.

That lead Logan to where he was now, around three weeks later. He was sat in the chair in his room, as usual, reading a book. It was Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, and he had read it hundreds of times. He always wanted to study space. The pristine whites and grays of his bedroom were tinged red from coughing fits in the middle of the day. Flowers could be spotted in the corners of his room, the only mess in his neat space. It used to feel comfortably organized, now feeling distant and damaged. Nevertheless, he essentially lived in his room, no reason to go outside when he was going to die anyways. No reason to leave his room when his parents were always fighting about him. They were still considering surgery, or at least his father was.

He felt another cough rise in his lungs. He had almost gotten used to the pain. Slowly stumbling up and to the trash can, he choked through the pain. He could feel the warmth claw its way up his throat, burning. Moments later, he could see two blood-soaked flowers, a poppy and carnation perfectly intact, stem and all. But they didn’t stop. A stream of blood followed, nearly filling his mouth, staining his lips and teeth red. In that moment, he realized just how little time he had left.

He turned over to the light switch, turning it off, then closing the drapes to his window. In the darkness he walked over to his perfectly made bed, and lied down. He could stare at the childish glow-in-the-dark stars he had placed up there, simply because they looked nice. He simply laid in the silence, staring at his own stars.

They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But a flash was the wrong word. No, Logan felt every moment leading up to this wash over him in a wave. Every mistake, every choice. He wondered if things could have been different. Maybe if he had never argued that first day, if he had never talked to Roman Prince, maybe he could have avoided all of this. He could have been on his way to a college, then to a job, and to a life. But it was too late for that. It was too late for him. It was almost over and he had lost.

Logan stared at the stars in thought. Soon, he lost track of time. He didn’t know how long he waited there before his vision started to blur. His vision started to fade, going darker and darker till he was staring into the face of the void. He felt his body lose the warmth it once contained, his energy dissolving. Despite it all, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, fighting for his life. Soon, it too gave up, slowing and stilling. He felt a soft pain surrounding his body, dulling his senses to numbness. Through the ache in his chest his breathing slowed. He gave out a small cough and a sharp breath in. As he released the breath, he felt himself let go. He released himself to the icy nothingness moving in on his brain. He couldn’t hear or see or feel anymore. He was still and detached and nothing anymore. He was finally gone.

#logince #major character death #mild blood and gore #hanahaki #sanders side fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #angst #sanders sides

26 notes · View notes

faglaios · 5 years ago

Note

Do u have any dabi hcs😳😳 or lov in terms of like family things they do

AAAAA I DO!!!!! I ALWAYS MAKE SURE TO ADD LITTLE THING WHEN WRITING SHIT W THEM!!

- in the current chapter of my dbhks fic that I’m working on it’s focusing on dabi and tenko and when tenko starts scratching his neck dabi holds his hand to help with it(he has gloves!)

- they’re all on first name and I hc dabi has trouble picking up on things so when they’re talking about something serious they call him touya

- follow up on the last one!! They know he’s touya and in fact have met yumi and natsuo!! they don’t see eye to eye on everything but they DO get along and it makes dabi really happy even if he won’t say it

- shigaraki has a gaming set up w like stolen shit and he’s currently showing dabi how to play pokemon switch! It’s mostly just dabi watching him play but they’re both having fun anyway!

- toga likes to tease that he views her as a little sister but he genuinely does so even when he’s like “no I don’t you little weirdo” he doesn’t mean it and follows up by rustling her hair

- he goes to Twice for advice! Twice is like the older brother he never had and they get along really well! He was definitely right next to tenko ready to kill redestro for toying with twice’s feelings

-he can sing!! He mostly just hums quietly to himself when doing things or just going for a walk but sometimes toga can get him to sing along to music she likes with her

- his scars aren’t super hard to hide!! This is less of a hc and more of just something I’ve thought on a lot. He can easily wear sunglasses(like I did when I cosplayed him), a scarf, a face mask(a cute one that Magne got for him), and just long sleeves and bam!! Scars covered and now he can go hang out in public without getting spotted

- I got a good ways into writing a fic of him and toga going to a local fair bc I thought it’d be cute(and it was) but unfortunately I never got around to finishing it so maybe I’ll try doing that soon!

- I TALKED AB THIS W MY FRIEND KRIS AND I LIKE TO HC THAT...... IN HIS COAT HE CARRIES LITTLE SHEETS OF STICKERS? AND WHEN TOGA DOES SOMETHING HE GIVES HER ONE AND THEN IT PROGRESSES INTO HIM GIVING EVERYONE STICKERS WHEN THEY DO THINGS AND THE STICKERS ARE ALWAYS CUTE LITTLE PUNS AND THEN ONE DAY HE DOES SMTH AND THEY ALL GIVE HIM A STICKER FROM EACH OF THEM AND ITS RLLY CUTE

- he’s not fully convinced Hawks is actually trying to join but he’s definitely the one that trusts him most! It’s not bc he likes him or trusts heroes, it’s bc he’s stupid and has trouble picking up on things like mentioned earlier

- the rest of the league can kinda tell hawks is a spy but bc they don’t want to hurt dabis feelings they don’t tell him(but also bc they know he’d be able to handle himself in a fight when hawks eventually turns against them)

I have a lot more but this is getting long!!

#i have a lot of things to say about dabi bc i just love him a lot and its kinda embarrassing but i could talk about him for literal hours #bnha #league of villains #dabi #izusquad #shut up evan

4 notes · View notes

fortomorrowmayrain-blog1 · 6 years ago

Text

An unnamed short fic with Brian May (I forgot to give this a title whoops)

Summary: You find out your boyfriend is married and Brian helps you come to terms with it (plus some admissions of love, perhaps? 😉)

Warnings: none but fluff :)

You sighed when the phone rang and tried to wipe your tears away, but a sob escaped your throat despite desperately attempting to keep it at bay.

“Hi,” you murmured into the phone, curling up against the wall, dropping to the floor.

When you were sad like this, there wasn’t really anything you could do other than ride it out.

“Hello, love, it’s me,” your best friend Brian greeted sweetly.

Typically his voice could relax you like no one else’s ever could, but in the moment you were missing him so badly that his voice only reminded you of the fact that he wasn’t there and hadn’t been for a month. You couldn’t handle all the horrible bullshit going on in your life without him.

“Hey, Bri,” you whispered, trying to hold back your tears but failing completely.

“Are you crying?” Brian worried and you could almost see the look of concern on his face.

“...No,” you quietly lied, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“You are, darling, I can hear you,” your friend argued gently, “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, y/n? I can help you.”

“I’m just sad. I wish you were here,” you finally admitted, clearly devastated, but not sharing the main reason for your distress.

“I miss you, too. But i don’t think that’s the whole story,” Brian gently debated and you bit your lip hard. He could read you like a book.

“When are you going to be home? Soon right?” you quickly changed topic. You didn’t miss a sigh from Brian, but he responded anyway, “Yes, love. tomorrow. Will you be okay until then?”

You nodded before realizing that the guitarist couldn’t see. “I think so,” you whispered.

“What happened, y/n?”

“I��“ your voice stuttered to a stop as another sob escaped your lips. “Oh no, darling,” he fussed, clearly concerned for you, “something bad, then?”

“My stupid boyfriend, I mean, ex-boyfriend, I guess. He’s been...it’s so ridiculous, I didn’t even really love him, I shouldn’t care so much,” you reprimanded yourself quietly, but Brian wouldn’t have any of it.

“Don’t do that. You’re allowed to be upset. I don’t know what he did but clearly it was bad. Tell me, love, so I can make things better. I can at least try,” he gently urged.

“He’s fucking married, Brian! I’m the other woman! I feel so goddamn stupid. And awful for his poor wife! I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, Bri! I-I, she hates me! What the hell am i going to do? I was a literal mistress,” you sobbed, deeply ashamed and fucking angry and just totally miserable

“...I am so sorry, y/n. This situation is just horrible, I’ll admit. You can’t blame yourself though, love, you didn’t know. He didn’t tell you, the fucking wanker. He’s in the wrong, certainly not you.”

“He has a kid, Brian! Oh god, I’m a fucking whore! A home wrecker!” you whimpered.

“No, no, no, we’re not doing that, okay? Don’t call yourself names. You didn’t do anything wrong. Believe me, okay? I would never lie to you,” he murmured and you could hear the sad smile in his voice.

“I know. But...I just, I should have known better,” you stubbornly argued, picking at your nail polish angrily.

“Nonsense,” Brian kindly brushed you off, “There’s no possible way you could have known. When you care about someone, you often overlook their faults.”

You sighed. Brian was right of course (he pretty much always was), but you still couldn’t shake the idea that this was all your fault.

“I’ll be home early, 10:30 I think. I’ll head to your place as soon as we land, I promise. Just, hang in there, y/n. Try to sleep in; enjoy your night as best as you can. We can think about this mess more when we’re face to face,” he offered kindly and you would have smiled if you weren’t so distraught.

“Okay.”

“Get some rest, alright?” Brian urged again and you smiled a little at his constant need to take care of you.

“I will. See you soon, Bri.”

You sunk into your bed, wrapping the covers around your body and tried to ignore how fucking shitty you felt. One thought, however, kept you feeling somewhat positive: at least Brian would be home tomorrow.

He’d know what to say. He always did.

xxxx

You hadn’t realized how late you slept in until you heard somebody in your kitchen.

You panicked for a moment, then remembered last night’s conversation. Brian’s home.

Your face lit up into a grin and you quickly threw on a robe as you rushed down the stairs only to see Brian singing softly as he made you breakfast.

It was beyond sweet and you already felt tears pricking at your eyes. You bolted towards him, throwing your arms around him from behind and resting your face against the back of his neck.

He laughed and it made you feel a thousand times lighter; Brian’s laugh always did that to you. There was just something about the way his face lit up, and even though you couldn’t see it in that moment, you knew his smile was bright.

“Hello, y/n. I missed you too,” he greeted amusedly as he turned towards you, pulling back for a moment only to hug you even closer.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just wanted him to hold you forever.

Unfortunately, the half made scrambled eggs drew his attention and he pulled away, but not until he pressed his lips to your forehead gently and ran a careful hand through your hair.

“You want eggs?” he asked warmly and you nodded with a shy smile.

“I can finish up making them,” you offered but he waved you off in an instant.

“No way, love. Today’s all about you,” Brian promised and your heart fluttered a little in your chest. Your gorgeous best friend had been your secret crush for years at that point. But you’d never told him.

Brian was far beyond your league, and he’d never want you like that, you were certain. So you just brushed the romantic feelings aside and tried to replace them with platonic appreciation.

He filled you in on details of the tour, making sure to tell you about all of the shenanigans the boys had been up to which had you giggling so much you were in tears for a different reason. A much better one.

Once he was finished with your food, he put a plate down in front of you, kissing your cheek as he did so, then sat down beside you.

Ah. The serious part of the conversation that you were dreading oh so much.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Brian murmured.

His hand reached out to rest on your knee and you internally scolded yourself for allowing your mind to escape to a far dirtier place than it should have.

“Mmhmm. Fine,” you whispered, avoiding eye contact as if your life depended on it.

“How did you find out?” he wondered aloud and you flinched at the very memory.

“Um. I called his place. She picked up. I—I tried to convince her that I really didn’t know about them, but she wouldn’t believe me. She was fucking furious. Just absolutely pissed, rightfully so, of course, but she just exploded at me. A-and i never meant to hurt anyone, really!” you finally rambled, looking to Brian with pleading eyes, praying he’d believe you.

“I know, darling. You got hurt too. Remember that. You don’t want to be in this position as much as his wife doesn’t want to be. He hurt his wife. And he hurt you. This isn’t your fault,” Brian calmly informed you as he lovingly wrapped you up in his arms.

Tears were leaking from the corners of your eyes yet again and it infuriated you because you just wanted to stop fucking crying.

“He, um, he doesn’t know I know, yet. At least, i don’t think he does. But I’m too scared to call him and break up with him,” you admitted in a tiny voice.

Brian simply nodded his understanding, then got up and made his way to the telephone.

“What’s his number?” he asked simply, as if it were the obvious solution.

“No, Bri, don’t be crazy. You can’t call him!”

“Y/n it’s fine. It’s perfect, really. That way you don’t have to talk to him, but you can still break up with him. Through me,” he replied brightly, clearly thinking it was the best idea ever.

“Um. I dunno, Bri. He’s not always...nice,” you admitted, which made your friend clench his fist in response.

“He’s not nice to you?” Brian confirmed and you could hear the anger in his voice clear as day.

“I just...I just mean that...fuck, Brian, can we please just talk about this another day?” you finally mumbled with tears pricking at your eyes yet again.

Brian softened immediately at the anguished look on your face.

“Of course, love. You know...there are guys who will treat you right. With respect. There are guys who will worship you,” Brian said quietly, cheeks reddening as if he were admitting something.

Was he?

You brushed the thought aside and laughed bitterly, “Uh huh. And if you can find this magical guy, please let me know.”

“I...um,” he swallowed uncomfortably and suddenly neither of you could breathe properly.

“Me,” he finally finished, looking up at you with obvious fear, but also unending love and affection in his eyes.

“You, what?” was your clumsy response and Brian actually laughed a little.

“I would treat you right,” he clarified and you sucked in a breath, nervous that you were still misunderstanding.

“I know, Bri. You do treat me right,” you agreed and Brian looked like he wanted to cry from your lack of understanding.

But he just continued on carefully, “No, y/n. I would treat you right as your boyfriend. And I would never make you feel like this.”

His hand rested against your cheek as his thumb gently caressed you. You were speechless.

“I—Brian, I’m in love with you.”

He grinned as your fingers tangled into his wild curls and he nodded, softly whispering, “Good. Because I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“So kiss me,” you challenged with a wobbly smile.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

#i love my boy bri #i’m scared to post this lol #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may imagine #fanfic #queen imagine #queen fanfic #reader #queen #fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor

1 note · View note

solangelover · 6 years ago

Text

Just a Bit of Coffee

A/N: I’ve been working on this one for a while. Based on this coffee shop AU prompt. I really like this universe I built up, so I think I’m gonna make it a multi-chapter fic! It’ll be my first AU one (with very slow updates) but I’m excited for it :) Anyways, enjoy this first installment!

Read on AO3 or FF.Net or Wattpad

Coffee is a staple for college students. It’s almost a crime to dislike coffee and doing homework in coffee shops. It’s insulting to some people because that means you don’t need the caffeine in coffee to survive college. To others, coffee is an experience, a heavenly one at that. Cecil fell into the latter category. Will, though he was a struggling med student (as all med students were), didn’t like coffee. He was more of a tea person, or you know, a person who got enough sleep to be functional (usually). Unfortunately for him, Cecil was his best friend, meaning Cecil was quite offended that Will disliked coffee and tried to shove it down his throat whenever possible.

“Will, smell this.” Cecil rarely made normal requests to Will, but he was used to it by now. He was leaning across their kitchen counter with his mug outstretched.

Will leaned over and smelled the coffee Cecil had brewed with his new roast. It smelled amazing. “Smells great! What is it?”

Cecil grinned widely. “It’s this chocolate macadamia nut coffee from Hawaii! It is SO GOOD. The smell alone is mouth-watering. Wanna try?”

“Yeah, no thanks. You know I only like the smell. Coffee itself is so bitter, why do you like it? You don’t need any more energy.” Cecil was never lacking energy, but he was also never lacking coffee, so Will couldn’t actually tell what his normal, non-caffeinated self was.

“One day, Will, one day you will fall in love with coffee and you’ll have me to thank. I will gladly take all the credit for it.”

Will just rolled his eyes and went back to his homework. He was swamped, but at least he kind of enjoyed all the medical stuff, though that didn’t make it easy.

“So, whatcha working on?” Cecil asked as he eyed Will’s papers.

“Human anatomy and physiology. I have a lab midterm next week and we have to memorize way too much stuff. I also have a lab report to do for bio, or was it chem? Plus, memorizing med terms for that other class.” Will was reaching his limit. He couldn’t even list off his work to Cecil, his mind already thinking about his other assignments.

Suddenly, the textbook that Will was staring at wasn’t there anymore and Cecil’s face replaced it. He was currently lying on the table Will was working on, looking upside down at Will. “Will, you’re insane. Know what you need?”

“I swear if you say coffee—“

“COFFEE. Seriously, good coffee makes you more alert and focused and you can be more productive in a smaller amount of time. I’m telling you, it’s scientifically proven.” Cecil sat up on the table in front of Will.

“Proven by whom? They ran an experiment?” Will quirked an eyebrow at his energetic friend.

Cecil simply waved his hand aimlessly. “Eh, doesn’t matter, not the point. Okay, this new coffee shop opened up and Lou Ellen is working there. She told me the coffee is good, even for my refined tastes, so we gotta check it out. Let’s go later this afternoon!”

“Why does it have to be ‘we’? Why not just you?” Will tried to discretely pull his textbook back, but Cecil snatched it away at the last moment.

Will let out an exasperated reply as Cecil responded smugly. “Because YOU have lots of work to do and you know the home environment is harder to study in. Studying in coffee shops is the college thing!”

“Yeah, well so is drinking coffee and I don’t do that either. I could just go to the library.”

Cecil rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, but that’s boring. Plus, you’d be ditching your best friend and roommate, and that’s not very nice.” Cecil pouted, giving his best puppy dog eyes. To Will, it just looked like he was in pain.

After staring for a bit, Will leaned back and groaned loudly. Cecil knew he had won. “UGH FINE. But you better let me do work there and not just talk forever. And I’m NOT drinking coffee.”

“You say that now, but I’m telling you, you’ll convert one day. And anyways, they have chai lattes there and I’m pretty sure you liked that the last time I got it for you.” Cecil got up and pushed Will’s textbook back towards him. “How about you get that lab report done here and then around 7 we’ll go to the coffee shop? It’s in walking distance, right down the road.”

“Sure. I can do my studying and memorizing, and you can do whatever history majors do. I swear, you’re gonna fail your classes if you don’t do your homework.”

“Yes, MOM.” Cecil dragged his feet as he walked towards their shared bedroom. “I do homework, I just don’t have as much as Doctor Solace over there.”

Will rolled his eyes and went to work on his lab report. He’s glad to have Cecil though. Without him, Will might never leave his apartment except for class.

—

At a little after 7 PM, Cecil and Will were standing in front of Descendants’ Cafe. It was cute. Very aesthetic, very hipster, but it still had this authentic, oldie feel, like it’s been there forever.

“The story of this place alone is cool,” Cecil stated while gazing at the sign. “The ones who built this are actually only a bit older than us. Remember Annabeth Chase?”

Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Annabeth? Super smart, dating the captain of the swim team, that Annabeth?”

Cecil grinned. “Of course you’d remember her boyfriend.” Will rolled his eyes as Cecil continued. “That’s the one. So she and Percy are still together, probably going to get married soon. Anyway, they started this place together, along with Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She’s the art student with crazy red curls.” They seemed like an interesting trio to Will. “Each of them is the child of very successful parents. Rachel’s parents are rich business people. Percy’s mom is a famous author while his dad is a world-class surfer. Annabeth’s mother works high up in the government doing top secret stuff and her dad is a history professor at some ivy-league school. Needless to say, they had no need for money, let alone starting up their own business. But, they wanted something that was theirs, not their parents’. And so, this place was born.”

“That’s... incredible. Wow, they must be an awesome team! I wonder how their parents took that.” Will was in awe of their bravery. That’s a huge step Will didn’t think he could take, especially if his parents were against it.

“From what I’ve heard,” Cecil said, “there were many issues and fights at first. Percy’s parents were the first to support them, and they helped convince the others. But, yeah, they really had to fight for this place. And they didn’t accept any financial help from their parents. So, right out of college, they started their business.”

“Wow. Wish I was them.” Will and Cecil walked in to the coffee shop, the door chime signaling their entrance.

“Yeah,” Cecil scoffed. “As if they all weren’t great enough, they had to add to their awesomeness.”

Upon entering, Will was hit with the smell of coffee. It was a good smell to him, even though he knew he didn’t like the taste. The interior decorations were very aesthetic - hanging succulents, bare lightbulbs, dark brown wood paneled floor and countertops. The walls were covered in brightly colored abstract art, not too distracting, but definitely bringing character to the place. Will thought they must’ve been by Rachel, recalling some of her art exhibitions that he had seen. She was really talented, but was always one of those artists who didn’t fit the school mold and was never fully appreciated. Now she could show off all her work, on top of being a proud co-owner of the place.

Cecil grabbed them a table near the back corner, knowing Will did need to do some studying. The table had a tiny succulent, as if the ones hanging everywhere weren’t hipster enough.

“So, what do you feel like drinking? I can order for you, so you can start working. I know, I know,” Cecil began to say when Will looked at him suspiciously. “No coffee. I just wanted to get you out of the apartment. You’re becoming a recluse with the amount of time you spend studying there.”

Will rolled his eyes, he was sure one day they’d roll right out of his head with Cecil around. “You’re so over dramatic. It’s not an unhealthy amount of time, I’d know, I’m the one trying to become a doctor.” Will peered over at the menu, not really sure what anything was. He looked over at Cecil. “Get me something you think I’d like—THAT’S NOT COFFEE. I’m trusting you as my best friend.”

Cecil grinned widely. He loved picking out drinks for others. “Alrighty, prepare to be amazed!” Cecil wiggled his fingers at Will as he sauntered over to the counter. Lou Ellen was at the register and happily chatted with Cecil. Will began pulling out his books.

He was already into memorization mode when Cecil came back and sat down. “Damn, you really waste no time. I don’t even get a little bit of conversation?” Cecil rested his head on his hand and gazed at Will’s books uninterestedly.

Will sighed. “Sure, sorry. So, how was your day?”

“Will, what are we, strangers? Don’t ask me such basic questions. Does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Cecil never lacked drama in everything he did and said. Sometimes, Will wondered why he didn’t major in acting instead.

“Okay, then what do you want to talk about?”

“Eh, I dunno.” Cecil shrugged like he didn’t just make a big deal out of having a conversation.

Will groaned and went back to reading his textbook. “I swear, you make no sense to me. You hurt my brain more than these medical terms do.”

“But you love me anyway.” Cecil grinned, and Will tried his best to suppress a smile. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, can you get the drinks when they’re called? It’ll be my name.”

“Sure thing. What did you get me?” Will asked as Cecil got up.

Cecil winked, “A basic chai latte with two pumps of vanilla and soy milk. I wanted to play it safe this time around. Next time, we’ll be more adventurous.” He turned and walked swiftly away, not giving Will any chance to protest a ‘next time’.

Will looked around the place, admiring the little details. It was definitely hipster at a glance, but a closer look told Will that someone with a good artistic and architectural sense designed the interior. The center column holding up each table looked like a Greek pillar, complete with carvings depicting a scene on the bottom. In fact, the whole place had subtle Greek undertones. There were Greek letters up on the top wall trimming near the ceiling. Even the abstract art on the walls had vague images of temples, thrones, and nature. He couldn’t believe that this place was founded by people only a couple of years older than him. The courage and confidence required to pull off what they did was above Will.

“Cecil!” The barista behind the counter called.

Will got up and took stock of everything on his table – he could never be too paranoid about leaving his stuff unattended. When he turned to the counter and saw two drinks, he also made eye contact with the barista. Will was a pretty social guy, no matter how awkward he felt. Eye contact with a stranger wouldn’t have been a big deal, except that he felt his eyes widen slightly when his brain suddenly shouted CUTE GUY ALERT. He nearly stopped in his tracks, having to force his feet to keep walking as he looked away from the cute barista and back at the two drinks. His brain couldn’t process any emotions, it was too focused on making sure Will kept breathing.

When he finally reached the counter, Will naturally looked up and smiled at the barista as he reached for his drinks. The guy seemed to be around his age, so there was a good chance he was a student at Will’s college.

“Thanks,” Will said, or tried to say. It came out as a whisper, like he suddenly lost his voice. Will cleared his throat and tried again, “Thanks!”

The barista gave a small smile back. Will reached out for the drinks at the same time the barista held out the drinks to him, causing Will’s hands and the drinks to collide sooner than Will had expected. They almost dropped the drinks, but the barista got a grip on them at the last second.

“Sorry!” they both squeaked at the same time. They locked eyes with each other once again, this time a noticeable red tinge on both boys’ cheeks.

The barista quickly looked away and thrust the cups into Will’s hands. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly.

Will blinked, slightly stunned by the boy’s dark brown eyes, and gathered his thoughts together. “Um, no problem. I mean, it’s fine, it was my fault. Not that anything spilled or anything. Uhh, yeah, um, thanks.” Will cleared his throat again, highly self-conscious about his social skills at the moment. He immediately spun around and headed straight back to his table, feeling the blood rush to his face.

Once seated, he breathed out as if he had been holding his breath the whole time. He resisted the urge to look back at the counter, worried that he’d make eye contact again, cause that poor boy to be more uncomfortable, and, if Will was being honest, hurt his chances of at least finding out his name.

Cecil suddenly appeared in front of him. “Will?” He waved his hand in front of Will’s face. “Did the latte taste that bad? Or did you melt your brain with all your medicalness?” He raised an eyebrow as he sat down and grabbed his drink from in front of Will.

Will belatedly noticed that his heart was beating too fast. Maybe he wasn’t breathing again. He physically shook his head as if to jumble his thoughts with the hope that they would fall back into place. “I, uh, I didn’t try the drink yet. I just got them.” Now he glanced over to the front counter. He couldn’t see Cute Barista Boy. He probably scared him to the back room. Or out of the coffee shop entirely.

“Oh, good. I want to see your reaction. Not that you haven’t had this order before, but I just want to have the validation of being your personal drink advisor.”

Cecil’s smug look brought Will back to reality. He rolled his eyes out of habit, replying, “Whatever makes you happy.” Will took a tentative sip, didn’t hate it, took another sip, then set his drink down and got back to work. “It’s good,” he muttered, knowing that Cecil wanted a response while also knowing that that statement would annoy him like crazy.

Will didn’t see it, but he could feel Cecil narrow his eyes in irritation at Will. “So unrefined. You’re lucky you have work to do and I respect you.” He leaned back in his chair and pulled out his phone.

Will didn’t respond. He was trying to focus on his studies while simultaneously regret everything he did in his one interaction with Cute Barista Boy. He was an incredible multitasker.

—

Cecil didn’t pester Will to go back to that coffee shop in the following days. Will almost wished that he would, but his pride would never let him admit that. It’s not like he wanted to go back because his drink tasted good anyway – he knew exactly why that place appealed to him.

Thus, the next Thursday at around 7 PM, Will suggested they go to Descendants’ Café.

“You what?” Cecil’s expression made it seem like Will had just suggested they quit school and join the circus.

“I said, I liked studying there and want to go back.” Will tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Cecil would just jump for joy and head out the door.

Instead, Cecil narrowed his eyes suspiciously, presumably trying to figure out if his roommate had suddenly been replaced by an alien. “Solace, I have known you since forever, and not once have you ever, EVER, said that to me. EVER. Like, never ever.”

“Yeah well—”

“EVER.”

Will waited a beat, meeting Cecil’s stare with his own. “Are you done?”

He took Cecil’s silence as an answer. “Hey, it was just a suggestion. We don’t have to go, I have no need for coffee or tiny succulents. The apartment has more than enough space—”

“No no no no no,” Cecil wagged his finger in Will’s face, effectively stopping him. “You don’t get to bait me. Ya hear? We’re going to that café. I’m choosing a new drink for you and you can’t complain because this is your choice.” Cecil went back into suspicious mode. “But I’m watching you, Solace. Aaaaalways watching…” He slowly backed away into their room and shut their door.

Will let out a huff of air. He didn’t know if going back – on the same day and time – was a mistake or not. But he couldn’t get Cute Barista Boy out of his head, so the only logical thing to do was see him again, and maybe even talk to him so he didn’t think Will was just an awkward klutz. Yup, Will nodded to himself, this is indeed the only option.

—

Entering Descendants’ Café for his second time, Will didn’t really pay attention to all the art and architecture, though he pretended to. This time, Will glanced behind the counter to make sure a certain someone was there. This time, Will stayed in line with Cecil so he could ‘get to know some stuff on the menu so he wasn’t so incompetent.’

This time, he would find out Cute Barista Boy’s name.

When they reached the register, Lou Ellen was once again working it. “Hey, Cecil! Hey, Will!” she greeted with a bright smile.

“’Sup, LouE,” Cecil grinned as Lou Ellen reached over and whacked his arm. She hates being called Louie, but Cecil insists spelling it like LouE makes it a legitimate nickname.

Will laughed, “Hi, Lou Ellen. How’s your day been?”

“Pretty average,” she shrugged. “School sucks as usual. And since this place is a bit too new still, we don’t really have a huge crowd. Nice place though, right?”

“Yeah, I like it a lot. Perfect for a coffee shop near a university.” This was easy conversation for Will. Casual, not stressful. He was feeling pretty good.

“Will’s the one who wanted to come back. Can you believe it?” Cecil said incredulously, jabbing his thumb towards Will. “Anyways, I’m taking this opportunity to get him something really good. Maybe this is his first step towards enlightenment.” Cecil tapped his chin as if in deep thought. Will only rolled his eyes.

Will currently didn’t see Cute Barista Boy. He was really hoping that he worked today, otherwise he’d be putting up with Cecil’s coffee craziness for nothing.

Cecil suddenly snapped his fingers. “I got it! How about a caramel macchiato? That’s really sweet, pretty much masks the bitterness of the coffee.” He gave Will a side glance. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Okay, whatever.” Will said a bit distractedly.

“You see this? This is the thanks I get.” Cecil and Lou Ellen’s words faded into the background. Cute Barista Boy came out from the back and Will couldn’t really bring himself to look away. He wanted to get comfortable with looking at him so that he could actually talk to him later. That was the plan, at least. Then Will realized that the boy was way too cute for Will to ever get used to him.

Cute Barista Boy was all dark compared to Will’s light, but in a way that intrigued Will to no end. He had dark hair to go with his deep, brown eyes. He had a black T-shirt and black skinny jeans on under his apron, which unfairly didn’t take away from his look. His skin was a bit pale, but had a light olive tone to it. His fingers were long and deft as he fiddled with the espresso machine. Will was probably about five inches taller than him, but his presence seemed stronger. Or maybe that was just in Will’s eyes.

“Hey, LEB, what’s the drink order? I can start it while you hold up the line.” Will was taken aback by the boy’s voice. It was firmer than he had imagined, though the only time he had actually heard it was in an awkward situation.

Lou Ellen groaned and spun around. “Don’t be dramatic, di Angelo. There’s no one else here, you’re just impatient. And don’t call me LEB!!”

“Or maybe I just enjoy my job that much, LEB” The dark boy smirked as he walked over to get the order. He didn’t look up at either Will or Cecil.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You could always quit.”

When Lou Ellen turned back around, she glared at Cecil, who was barely containing his laughter. “LEB! Hahaha… Because… Your last name…” He couldn’t even get a full sentence out, he was laughing so much.

“This is what you do to me, Nico,” she called over her shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” Nico replied.

“THANK YOU!” Cecil shouted.

Will finished paying and ushered Cecil to the same table they were at last week. Nico di Angelo. Will rolled that name around in his head, trying not to be immediately enthralled with how beautiful it sounded. He shook his head and decided to distract himself with homework. As he pulled out a few textbooks, his name was called.

Will took a deep breath and got up to get their drinks. This is what he’d been waiting for, he could do this. Just have a normal conversation with the guy. Be your normal, friendly self. Who knows, maybe he’s actually a jerk, Will thought to himself, though he didn’t think that would be the case. His friendly banter with Lou Ellen already made him like the boy. If Nico could befriend someone as headstrong and tough as Lou Ellen in the short amount of time they’d been working together, then he had to be something special.

Before he knew it, Will was at the counter. He put on a smile and pretended that he didn’t rehearse this conversation several times over the past week.

“Hi,” Will cleared his throat. “Um, thanks for the drinks.”

Nico nodded, “No prob. Kinda my job, so…”

Will gave a short laugh and continued. “Right. So, you’re friends with Lou Ellen?”

Nico smirked, “Yeah, LEB and I met working here, but I see her around on campus nowadays. You know her?”

“Yeah,” Will affirmed. “I met her through Cecil, the guy over there. Them two together are quite the pair.”

“Ha, I could see a bit of that from just earlier.” The conversation seemed like it was going to end, so Will quickly kept it up.

“So, you go to Olympus University?” Will tried not to sound too hopeful.

“Yeah, second year, but I just transferred in.”

“Cool! I’m also a second year! I’m guessing your major isn’t coffee-ology?” What are you even saying, William, he thought to himself.

Nico chuckled at the horrible joke. “Nah, wasn’t for me. I’m an art student. What about you?”

“I’m a med student. I want to be a doctor someday.”

Nico whistled low. “Medical. That’s hard. Surprised you have time to come here.” He glanced around the place. “Not that it’s too busy. I’m sure that’ll change though. I’ve known the owners for a long time, they’re not quite the type to give up.”

Will smiled at Nico’s faith in them. They must’ve been good friends. “I’m Will, by the way. Will Solace.”

“Nico di Angelo.”

“I know,” Will said. “I mean, um, sorry. About last week. If you remember, of course, you probably don’t because it was, like, a whole week ago. I just, um,” Will was internally cringing at every word coming out of his mouth. “I almost knocked over the drinks. Last week. So, yeah, sorry.” Will was sure his face was completely red by now. He had been doing so well to.

Will turned around to walk shamefully back to his seat when Nico’s voice stopped him. “Oh, I remember.”

Will looked back, “You do?”

“Of course,” Nico grinned. “How could I forget the cute blonde who almost made me drop his drinks?” With that, Nico left the counter and went back to making drinks.

Will stood there for probably a bit too long, stunned and speechless. He forced himself to move and robotically sat back in his seat.

“AHEM,” Cecil cleared his voice loudly, causing Will’s head to snap in his direction. He had a grade A smirk on his face with his eyebrows raised. “So, I now know why you wanted to come back. If your red face and dopey smile is anything to go by.”

Will hadn’t even realized he was smiling, but he didn’t really care all that much. He glanced over to the counter and found brown eyes already looking back at him.

He didn’t know what to make of all this. It had never happened to him before. But Will knew one thing. Coffee was definitely starting to grow on him.

ch.2

#I FIGURED OUT THE KEEP READING LINE #this is my longest one #i like it a lot #coffee shop au #AU #solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #fanfic #solangelo au #will solace #nico di angel #cecil markowitz #lou ellen blackstone #feedback is cool #my wriring #my post #just a bit of coffee #jaboc1 #chapter 1

71 notes · View notes